between the pews behind you. As 6:03 approaches … if you’re still alive … get out of this area no matter what’s happening around you. That’s all I can do for you.”
Maureen stood and looked at him closely. “No one asked you to do anything for us. If you want to do something for everyone, get down those stairs right now and open the gates to them. Then go into the pulpit and tell your people it’s finished. No one will stop you, Brian. I think they’re waiting to hear from you.”
“When they open the gates of Long Kesh, I’ll open the gates here.”
Her voice became angry. “The keys to the jails of Ulster are
Flynn laughed. “A
She drew a shallow breath and brought her voice under control. “Very well … it’s not worth going into that again. But you’ve no right to con these people into dying. Your voice can break the spell of death that hangs over this place. Go on! Do it! Now!” She swung and slapped him on the face.
Baxter moved off to one side and looked away.
Flynn pulled Maureen to him and said, “All night everyone’s been very good about giving me advice. It’s odd, isn’t it, how people don’t pay much attention to you until you’ve set a time bomb ticking under them?” He released her arms. “You, for instance, walked out on me four years ago without much advice for my future. All the things you’ve said to me tonight could have been said then.”
She glanced at Baxter and felt curiously uncomfortable that he was hearing all of this. She spoke in a low voice. “I said all I had to say then. You weren’t listening.”
“You weren’t speaking so loudly, either.”
Flynn turned to Baxter. “And you, Harry.” He moved closer to Baxter. “Major Bartholomew Martin needed a dead Englishman in here, and you’re it.”
Baxter considered this and accepted it in a very short time. “Yes … he’s a sick man … an obsessed man. I suppose I always suspected …”
Flynn looked at his watch. “Excuse me, I have to speak to my people.” He turned and walked toward the pulpit.
Maureen came up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder, turning him toward her. “Damn it, aren’t you at least going to say good-bye?”
Flynn’s face reddened, and he seemed to lose his composure, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry … I didn’t think you … Well—good-bye, then…. We won’t speak again, will we? Good luck …” He hesitated, then leaned toward her but suddenly straightened up again.
She started to say something, but Gallagher’s deep voice called out from the sacristy stairs, “Brian! Burke’s here to see you!”
Flynn looked at his watch with some surprise.
Hickey called out from the organ, “It’s a trap!”
Flynn hesitated, then looked at Maureen. She nodded slightly. He held her eyes for a moment and said, “Still trusting.” He smiled and walked quickly around the altar and descended the stairs.
Burke stood at the gate in his shirt-sleeves, his shoulder holster empty and his hands in his pants pockets.
Flynn approached without caution and stood close to the gate. “Well?” Burke didn’t answer, and Flynn spoke curtly. “You’re not going to ask me to give up or— ”
“No.”
Flynn called up to Gallagher, “Take a break.” He turned to Burke. “Are you here to kill me?”
Burke took his hands out of his pockets and rested them on the bars. “There’s an implied white flag here, isn’t there? Do you think I’d kill you like that?”
“You should. You should always kill the other side’s commander when you have a chance. If you were Bellini, I’d kill you.”
“There’re still rules.”
“Yes, I just gave you one.”
A few seconds passed in silence, then Flynn said, “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to say I have no personal animosity toward you.”
Flynn smiled. “Well, I knew that. I could see that. And I’ve none toward you, Burke. That’s the hell of it, isn’t it? I’ve no personal hatred of your people, and most of them have none toward me.”
“Then why are we here?”
“We’re here because in 1154 Adrian the Fourth gave Henry the Second of England permission to bring his army to Ireland. We’re here because the Red Bus to Clady passes Whitehorn Abbey. That’s why I’m here. Why are you here?”
“I was on duty at five o’clock.”
Flynn smiled, then said, “Well, that’s damned little reason to die. I’m releasing you from your promise to join the attack. Perhaps in exchange you’ll decide to kill Martin. Martin set up poor Harry to be here—did you figure that out?”
Burke’s face was impassive.
Flynn glanced at his watch. 5:04. Something was wrong. “Hadn’t you better go?”
“If you like. Also, if you’d like, I’ll stay on the phone with you until 6:03.”
Flynn looked at Burke closely. “I want to speak to Schroeder. Send him down here.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I want to speak to him! Now!”
Burke answered, “No one is intimidated by your threats anymore. Least of all Bert Schroeder.” He exhaled a deep sigh. “Captain Schroeder put the muzzle of his gun in his mouth …”
Flynn grabbed Burke’s arm. “You’re lying! I want to see his body.”
Burke pulled away and walked down into the sacristy, then looked back toward Flynn. “I don’t know what pushed him off the edge, but I know that somehow you’re to blame.” Burke stood at the corridor opening. Barely three feet away stood a masked ESD man with a Browning automatic shotgun. Burke edged toward the opening and looked back at Flynn. He seemed to vacillate, then said, “Goodbye.”
Flynn nodded. “I’m glad we met.”
CHAPTER 56
Bellini stood close to the conference table in the press room, his eyes focused on four long, unrolled sheets of blueprints, their corners weighted with coffee cups, ashtrays, and grenade canisters. Huddled around him were his squad leaders. The first three blueprints showed the basement, the main floor, and the upper levels. The fourth was a cutaway drawing of a side view of the Cathedral. Now that they were all in front of him, Bellini was unimpressed.
Gordon Stillway was seated in front of the blueprints, rapidly explaining the preliminary details. Bellini’s brow was creased. He looked around to see if anyone was showing signs of enlightenment. All he could read in the blackened, sweaty faces was impatience, fatigue, and annoyance at the postponement.
Burke opened the door and came into the room. Bellini glanced up and gave him a look that didn’t convey much gratitude or optimism. Burke saw Langley standing by the rear wall and joined him. They stood side by side and watched the scene at the table for a few seconds, then Burke spoke without looking away from the conference table. “Feeling better?”
Langley’s tone was cool. “I’ve never felt better in my life.”
“Me too.” He looked at the spot on the floor where Schroeder had fallen. “How’s Bert?”
Langley said, “A police doctor is treating him for physical exhaustion.” Burke nodded.
Langley let a few seconds go by. “Did Flynn buy it?”
Burke said, “His next move may be to threaten to kill a hostage if we don’t show him Schroeder’s body … with the back of his head blown away.”
