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A cold wind blew in from Belfast, driving rain across the city.

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Chapter One A cold wind blew in from Belfast, driving rain across the city. John Quinn moved along a narrow street between tall warehouses, relics from the Victorian era, mostly boarded up now. He stood on a corner, a small man who was no more then five foot five, wearing a trench coat and an old rain hat. He was at the waterfront now. There were many ships out there at anchor, their lights bouncing on the waves like children on a bed. There was a loud rattle of gunfire in the near distance. He glanced in the general direction shaking his head slowly; he moved on and lit a large cigar. This area was home to gangs, tramps, drug lords and prostitutes. These were some of the examples of a long devastating twenty-five year war; his feet crunched over broken glass and rubbish. Rubbish sacks littered the roads, unwanted sofas and mattresses now lay in the alleys that now belonged to the homeless. He found what he was looking for five minutes latter, a warehouse with a peeling sign that said Dillon &Sons -Import &Export. There were large double doors with a smaller heavy locked door. ...read more.


The big man felt between Quinn's legs. "All clear Curtis" he called. "Hey, easy big boy before one of us gets turned on!" cried out Quinn in a joke like voice. "Bring him to my office with you and tell Cameron to watch the front". When Quinn entered the office, Curtis Daley was slouched in a chair behind the desk. He was a young man of about twenty-five or so with a heavily freckled face. "Mr. Quinn, I am Curtis Daley. We have to be careful here, you understand". "Oh, perfectly well", Quinn rolled up his rain hat and slipped it into his raincoat pocket. "May I smoke?" Daley tossed a pack of cigars across the table "Try an Irish cigar. I'm surprised that an English Oxford Boy like you is working for a Russian arms dealer. So why do you come to Ireland?" Quinn lit a cigar and took a deep puff. "Well the arms business, especially the level we want to buy at isn't exactly flowing in London nowadays". "So, how can I help you?" said Curtis as he sat up in his chair. "Well I was told that I was meeting your boss, Mr. Murphy". ...read more.


"Jack show 'im the way out," said Curtis as he beckoned Jack to come over. "One last thing Curtis, will I meet Mr. Murphy?" "I can't say. But if you can, I'll phone you". He turned to Jack "Send him on his way". Jack took Quinn back to the entrance and opened the heavy door with amazing ease. As John Quinn stepped outside there was a bright flash and an echoing booming sound came to life in the distance. "What was that?" cried out John. "Only a bomb, nothing to get worried about, my little friend. Did you wet your pants?" He laughed at Quinn and was still laughing as he closed the door. Quinn paused at the corner. The first thing he did was peel of his moustache from above his top lip, then he removed the rain hat from his pocket, unrolled it and removed a short barrelled Smith & Wesson from the small of his back. He put on his hat as the rain turned to hail as they now felt like stones when they hit. "Amateurs" he said to himself "What can you do with them?" and then he vanished into the gloomy shadows of Belfast. By Rikki Patel ?? ?? ?? ?? 3 1 ...read more.

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