with receding fair hair, cut short, almost army-style. McCracken studied him as he walked over to the table and picked up her notepad. One word came to mind when she thought of the man who was paying her wages. Bland. Pale blue eyes, fair hair,
medium height, a squarish face with an average nose, no distinguishing features. If she closed her eyes, she could barely picture his face. Egan studied the list, nodding thoughtfully.
'It's okay?' McCracken asked, going over to join him.
'It's fine. Perfect.'
McCracken pulled off the rubber band that she used to hold her hair back when she had the ski mask on and shook it free. 'If you know what the ingredients are, why do we need her?' she asked.
Egan tapped the side of his nose with a forefinger. 'Need to know, Lydia, love. How are Quinn and O'Keefe getting on?'
Egan's accent was mid-Atlantic. At times it sounded West Coast American, but generally his voice was as unremarkable as his physical appearance.
McCracken tilted her head to the side. 'O'Keefe's fine. Very professional. But Quinn . . .'
Egan put down the notepad and narrowed his eyes. 'What?'
McCracken winced under his gaze. She didn't want to badmouth Quinn, but he was the weakest member of the team and she wasn't sure how reliable he'd be under pressure. 'He's a bit... unfocused. Considering what we're expected to do. The next phase and all.'
'It's not too late to replace him, Lydia.' His pale blue eyes watched to see how she'd react.
McCracken knew what he meant by replaced. 'I don't know,' she said.
Egan walked up close to her and looked into her eyes. 'It's got to be your call,' he said. 'Your responsibility. I can't be here all the time.'
'I know. It's just I haven't worked with guys like him before.'
'He's not a terrorist. He's a career criminal. They have different motivations. Different behavioural patterns.'
'He's undisciplined.'
'That's a function of his background, Lydia. You were trained by the best, mentally and physically. So far as the Provisional IRA are concerned, it's just as important that their volunteers are politically educated as it is that you can fire a gun or place a bomb. Quinn's all action and reaction. A couple of years back he was involved in a bank robbery. Sawn-off shotguns,
stun guns, a team of six. They were unlucky and a passing armed response vehicle piled in. Quinn was the only one to get away. Shot two cops. Drove off in their car, cool as a cucumber.
Plus he's good with vehicles.' He smiled reassuringly. 'What I'm saying is that if anything does go wrong, Quinn's a good man to have in your corner. But as I said, it's your call. Has to be.'
McCracken nodded. 'He'll be okay. Besides, we're going to need everyone to do the mixing.' She gestured at the notepad.
'According to what the Hayes woman says, there's a hell of a lot of work involved.'
'She's co-operating fully?'
'Carrot and stick,' said McCracken. 'She thinks she's going to see her daughter if she helps us. And that we'll kill her if she doesn't. She keeps asking if she can call her husband. What do you think?'
'Only if it's the only way you can get her to co-operate. The husband hasn't gone to the cops, so the phones are clean. But if you do allow it, keep it short and watch what she says.' Egan jangled his keys. 'Right. I'll leave you to it. I've got to get back to Ireland.' He reached into his jacket pocket and took out an envelope. He handed it to McCracken. 'Be careful with her,' he said, nodding at the offices. 'She's not to be trusted, not for a minute.'
Katie crept up the stairs and put her ear to the door. She couldn't hear anything. 'Hello!' she shouted. 'I have to use the bathroom!'
There was no answer. 'It's an emergency!' she shouted at The top of her voice. Still no answer. Katie tried the door handle.
It twisted but the door wouldn't move. She didn't think it was locked because if it was locked then the handle wouldn't move.
That meant it was only the bolts that kept her in. Katie pushed
medium height, a squarish face with an average nose, no distinguishing features. If she closed her eyes, she could barely picture his face. Egan studied the list, nodding thoughtfully.
'It's okay?' McCracken asked, going over to join him.
'It's fine. Perfect.'
McCracken pulled off the rubber band that she used to hold her hair back when she had the ski mask on and shook it free. 'If you know what the ingredients are, why do we need her?' she asked.
Egan tapped the side of his nose with a forefinger. 'Need to know, Lydia, love. How are Quinn and O'Keefe getting on?'
Egan's accent was mid-Atlantic. At times it sounded West Coast American, but generally his voice was as unremarkable as his physical appearance.
McCracken tilted her head to the side. 'O'Keefe's fine. Very professional. But Quinn . . .'
Egan put down the notepad and narrowed his eyes. 'What?'
McCracken winced under his gaze. She didn't want to badmouth Quinn, but he was the weakest member of the team and she wasn't sure how reliable he'd be under pressure. 'He's a bit... unfocused. Considering what we're expected to do. The next phase and all.'
'It's not too late to replace him, Lydia.' His pale blue eyes watched to see how she'd react.
McCracken knew what he meant by replaced. 'I don't know,' she said.
Egan walked up close to her and looked into her eyes. 'It's got to be your call,' he said. 'Your responsibility. I can't be here all the time.'
'I know. It's just I haven't worked with guys like him before.'
'He's not a terrorist. He's a career criminal. They have different motivations. Different behavioural patterns.'
'He's undisciplined.'
'That's a function of his background, Lydia. You were trained by the best, mentally and physically. So far as the Provisional IRA are concerned, it's just as important that their volunteers are politically educated as it is that you can fire a gun or place a bomb. Quinn's all action and reaction. A couple of years back he was involved in a bank robbery. Sawn-off shotguns,
stun guns, a team of six. They were unlucky and a passing armed response vehicle piled in. Quinn was the only one to get away. Shot two cops. Drove off in their car, cool as a cucumber.
Plus he's good with vehicles.' He smiled reassuringly. 'What I'm saying is that if anything does go wrong, Quinn's a good man to have in your corner. But as I said, it's your call. Has to be.'
McCracken nodded. 'He'll be okay. Besides, we're going to need everyone to do the mixing.' She gestured at the notepad.
'According to what the Hayes woman says, there's a hell of a lot of work involved.'
'She's co-operating fully?'
'Carrot and stick,' said McCracken. 'She thinks she's going to see her daughter if she helps us. And that we'll kill her if she doesn't. She keeps asking if she can call her husband. What do you think?'
'Only if it's the only way you can get her to co-operate. The husband hasn't gone to the cops, so the phones are clean. But if you do allow it, keep it short and watch what she says.' Egan jangled his keys. 'Right. I'll leave you to it. I've got to get back to Ireland.' He reached into his jacket pocket and took out an envelope. He handed it to McCracken. 'Be careful with her,' he said, nodding at the offices. 'She's not to be trusted, not for a minute.'
Katie crept up the stairs and put her ear to the door. She couldn't hear anything. 'Hello!' she shouted. 'I have to use the bathroom!'
There was no answer. 'It's an emergency!' she shouted at The top of her voice. Still no answer. Katie tried the door handle.
It twisted but the door wouldn't move. She didn't think it was locked because if it was locked then the handle wouldn't move.
That meant it was only the bolts that kept her in. Katie pushed
Similar Books
