Undercover Read online

  The occasional lurch of the vessel as it steered its course failed to unsettle Cormac. He closed his eyes. Vague dreams, disjointed images, the half-conscious jolts as his head lolled, ceased only when the engine dropped a note. His stomach flip-flopped with the helicopter's descent. He tried to focus but his brain wasn't ready to cooperate. His lids drooped. Eyes stung.

  Donna nudged him. "I can't believe you slept through that."

  "Ugh."

  "It was so awesome," Mattie said.

  "We're here?" Cormac asked, his brain still flagging.

  Donna leaned forward in her seat to check on John's pulse; concern etched deep in her face. "The pilot says we're just about to land."

  Cormac looked to his left. There wasn't much to see in the night sky; some lights below them but nothing that looked like a helipad. Cormac leaned to his right and looked over his shoulder, into the cockpit.

  "Can you see your landing spot, mate?"

  The pilot pulled one of his ear cans back and asked Cormac to repeat himself.

  "I can't see a helipad. Is it safe to land?"

  "Don't worry, officer. I've landed at this club hundreds of times. Mr McGoldrick comes here regularly. I barely need the co-ordinates, never mind bull's-eye lighting."

  "Who is this McGoldrick guy?"

  "My boss."

  The pilot slipped his headphones back in place and flipped some switches. Cormac had no idea what they were for. It felt wrong to be so dependent on somebody he didn't know at such a great height. But a helicopter licence wasn't exactly criterion for his job. Neither was his instinct for mistrust and suspicion, but that certainly helped him out more than once. He checked his shoulder holster and stroked the cold comfort of his Glock. His mind started to shake the muzzy feeling of recent sleep. The power nap had sharpened him a little.

  The helicopter descended.

  Cormac rolled his shoulders. His sweat-dampened shirt peeled away from his back. He tapped his feet to get the blood flowing in his legs again. Cormac didn't like how the pilot had cut short their conversation. He wanted to know more about McGoldrick and his connection to Lydia Gallagher. And he wanted to know why the whole situation had gotten so complicated. Surely a man with his own helicopter could have paid the family's ransom and then some?

  "Fuck this."

  Cormac unbuckled his harness and stepped through the narrow opening between his seat and John's. He heard Mattie ask Donna what was going on but she didn't have an answer for the kid. Cormac settled into the empty co-pilot seat. The pilot looked at him, his teeth bared.

  "What do you think you're doing, you idiot? This isn't some taxi-bus. We're flying."

  "I've never sat up front in a helicopter before. Thought I should seize the opportunity."

  "Get the—"

  "Don't be upset. I just want to chat. What's your name?"

  The pilot tried to stare Cormac down. He hadn't much experience interacting with serious crimes detectives, then. After a few seconds, his eyelids shuttered and he shook his head to pass off his submission as an attempt to take the higher ground.

  "Capt—"

  "Not your title. Not your surname. What do your friends call you?"

  "Nathan."

  "Okay, Nathan. Tell me exactly what you've been asked to do here."

  "Take Mrs Gallagher's family, and you, to Mr McGoldrick."

  "And then?"

  "I'm free for the next few days. I'll probably do something with the wife and kids."

  "Don't get cute."

  "I don't know what you want from me. My job is to fly the helicopter when and where Mr McGoldrick asks me to. That's it."

  Cormac stared deep into Nathan's bloodshot eyes. The pilot's defiance had given way to fear, but it didn't seem like he was lying.

  "All right, then, big lad. Let's set this whirlybird down. How long before we get our feet back on the ground?"

  "Just a few minutes. You can see the lights from the clubhouse up ahead." Nathan pointed out the front window. "We'll touchdown a fair distance in front of that. They'll light up the helipad when we're a little closer."

  "Why wait?"

  "Mr McGoldrick said he was trying to avoid attention. News reporters, perhaps? There are quite a few celebrity members at this club."

  "Bullshit. There's no story there. Even with a footballer in tow, that doesn't make any sense. This doesn't feel right."

  "Just look out for the lights and relax, officer. Please."

  Cormac clenched his jaw shut and took a deep breath through his nose. He couldn't see a thing. Then there was a flash. And another. The source was unmistakeable.

  "Somebody's shooting down there."

  The helipad blinked into existence. Cormac could make out the silhouettes of people running across it. He pulled the Glock from his shoulder holster.

  "Get lower but don't land."

  "I—"

  Cormac pushed the muzzle of his gun into the pilot's cheekbone.

  "I'm your boss now. Just do what you're told."

  Chapter 21

  Of course there are gay men in football. Jesus, what year do people think this is? And I'll tell you something else. It's not just the pretty boys who're lurking in the closet for fear of their careers. Some of these lads are boot ugly.

  Rory Cullen, CULLEN: The Autobiography

  Lydia edged towards Rory. He was still looking up at the helicopter and hadn't noticed that Stephen Black had his gun trained on McGoldrick. The old Scot raised his hands. Lydia nudged Rory in the ribs and nodded towards the standoff.

  "Ach, balls," Rory said.

  Lydia had to agree.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" McGoldrick asked.

  "Protecting myself. I'm pretty sure Mr Cullen didn't see a smoking fox down by those trees. So what's the story?"

  "You can't shit a shitter, eh?" McGoldrick's mouth stretched in an effort to smile. "Just so you know, I had no choice in this. Once you threw that Belfast boy off the balcony things got messy."

  "I see. You've been keeping as much from me as you have from Mrs Gallagher, then."

  "You were told what you needed to be told."

  "Evidently not. You're suggesting I've brought some sort of reckoning upon myself."

  "It's just business."

  "Ugh, what a dull cliché. I'd have expected more from you, McGoldrick."

  "What's happening?" Rory asked.

  "Our friend here has devised some sort of welcome party for us, I suspect. How many of them are out there, McGoldrick?"

  "You'll see soon enough." McGoldrick backed off a few paces, not quite daring to look away from the ex-spook. "I'd suggest you save as many bullets as you can, though."

  Stephen Black sighed and shot McGoldrick. The silenced bullets tore into the old Scot's thighs. Two growing blotches of red stained his chinos. He screamed, staggered and sank to the ground.

  "I have plenty of bullets, Mr McGoldrick."

  The lights around the helipad flickered to life. Lydia's mind was hijacked by shock. Her vision sharpened but she felt a little dizzy. The sudden intrusion of electric light lent a dream-like quality to the scene. Rory went to McGoldrick's side and looked to Stephen Black for guidance.

  "He'll be able to walk with your help. Hobble, at least. Take him towards the car park." He turned to Lydia. "Stay close to me. Things are likely to get messy now."

  "But my family..." Lydia pointed at the helicopter.

  "You'll have to let Detective Kelly take care of them for now. Come on."

  Stephen Black darted across the illuminated helipad, Lydia close behind him. He led her to some long grass and a cluster of saplings. From the shadows, they watched Rory struggle with the old Scot.

  "Shouldn't we protect them?" Lydia asked.

  "That's what we're doing. Trust me."

  Lydia was all out of trust but there was little she could do about the situation. She heard the chainsaw rev of a bike engine and looked to the trees where Rory had gone to relieve himself. The
branches were lit up like a science fiction movie set-piece. A motorcycle burst from the grove and tore up the manicured grass in its path. The rider and pillion passenger hunched over as the machine accelerated. They were headed towards Rory and McGoldrick.

  Stephen Black levelled his gun. Forgetting the silencer, Lydia covered her ears as he pumped his trigger finger. Sparks exploded from the side of the bike and the passenger squealed loud enough to penetrate Lydia's muffled ears. The bike skidded off course and toppled into a bunker.

  "Right, come on."

  Stephen Black grabbed Lydia's arm and she fought to keep her footing as he hauled her towards the car park. She raised her voice to a controlled scream to be heard over the hovering helicopter engine.

  "What if there are more of them?"

  "We've given them something to think about, haven't we?"

  They ran until Lydia's calves burned with exertion and skidded to a halt beside Rory and McGoldrick. Rory had managed to navigate his charge through the maze of high-end four-by-fours and luxury saloons to Stephen Black's Vauxhall. The old Scot was bleary-eyed and pale with shock. Rory looked to Stephen Black for the next set of instructions. The ex-spook retrieved his car keys from his pocket and pushed the button on the fob. He flipped open the boot.

  "Throw him in here, there's a good lad."

  "We're not leaving," Lydia said. "Not without my boys."

  "I have to be honest with you," Stephen Black said, "it's likely that my business arrangement with Mr McGoldrick is now beyond repair. My work here is done. I need to get the old chap out of here and work on disappearing for a while."

  "You bastard. I can't believe you would..." Lydia took a deep breath and changed tact. "I'll pay you to help me."

  "You're in financial ruin, Mrs Gallagher. You can't afford me."

  "I can," Rory said. "Consider me your new boss, Stevie B."

  "I'm very expensive."

  "And you already know how much money I have. With more on the way. This could work out very well for you."

  Lydia could feel control slipping from her grasp yet again. "Rory..."

  "It's okay. I owe you big time, Lydia."

  She didn't want the spoiled bastard's help. The temptation to throw his offer back in his face was overwhelming. But she had to think of John and Mattie. Her pride would have to take a backseat for now.

  "So what's the plan?" Lydia asked.

  ###

  Cormac lowered his gun from the pilot's face. He rested the Glock on his lap, finger on the outside of the trigger-guard.

  "Don't get any ideas, Nathan. I'm still the boss-man here."

  The pilot nodded, almost gratefully.

  "Get me closer to the action."

  Nathan pushed his cyclic stick forward and the front of the helicopter dipped. Cormac watched a motorcycle blast its way out of a cluster of trees. He could see the pillion passenger had a gun in his hand, possibly a sawn-off. Another burst of gunfire strobe-lit the shadows. The bike veered off-course and into a large bunker. The riders toppled in a tangle of limbs; their landing cushioned by fine sand.

  Cormac scanned the golf course for further madness. Nathan pulled the helicopter out of its descent and looked to Cormac for the next instruction.

  Donna called in from the passenger seats behind Cormac. "What's happening?"

  "Somebody's shooting people down there. That's all I can see."

  "Tell the pilot to take us straight to a hosp—"

  Mattie cut in. "What about my mum?"

  "I can't see anything, mate. We're going to have to check this out, Donna."

  "John's not looking great here."

  "He's going to have to hold on."

  "The poor bastard's been holding on all day."

  "I'm sorry, Donna. If Mattie's ma is down there she needs our help too."

  Donna growled but offered no further argument.

  "We're going to have to land this thing, Nathan."

  "You're going to get me killed."

  Cormac raised his gun off his lap. "Just do what you're told."

  Nathan pushed the stick forward again and guided them towards the helipad.

  "Don't land there, for Christ's sake. Give us a little distance from the gunplay."

  "I haven't asked for permission to land at the other—"

  "Permission my arse. Just find a nice flat spot over there." Cormac pointed out the window.

  "That's a car park."

  "It's half-fucking-empty."

  Nathan mumbled under his breath then yanked the cyclic stick back and to the left. The helicopter turned jerkily towards the car park. Cormac heard John moan over the sound of the engine and rotors. Donna made soothing noises. Cormac slapped the pilot in the centre of his forehead.

  "Take it easy, dickhead. There's an injured man back there."

  Nathan clenched his jaw and his grip on the stick tightened, but the aggression seeped away from his manoeuvres. The chastised pilot guided his helicopter to a patch of car park furthest from the door of the clubhouse.

  "I'm going to get crucified for this."

  "Forward all complaints to the PSNI, Nathan."

  The bushes at the edge of the car park shook violently in the blast of air from the helicopter's rudders. It seemed to take a life-time for the skids to settle on the tarmac. Cormac left his seat in the cockpit and knelt in front of Mattie.

  "I'm going to go find your ma, all right?"

  The kid nodded. His eyes were red and glossed with the threat of tears, but he held himself together.

  Cormac turned to Donna.

  "I want you to go to the nearest hospital with John." He drew his back-up gun from its ankle holster and passed it to her. "There are six bullets in this. Keep the pilot from getting any stupid ideas."

  "Cormac, I've never shot—"

  "And let's hope you don't have to start today, but it's better to have it and not need it and all that jazz."

  Her face hardened in a way that told him he'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. He was expecting too much from her. But there was no other option and he needed to keep his mind clear to deal with the next inevitable disaster. He had no time to sweet-talk or apologise.

  "When I find Mattie's ma we'll figure out what hospital you're at and meet up there."

  John's voice was raspy and barely audible over the noise of the helicopter. "I want to speak to Lydia."

  "You will, John. From the comfort of a hospital bed."

  "No. I might not make it. Let me say goodbye to her."

  Cormac looked to Donna. She chewed on her lower lip for a couple of seconds then nodded.

  "I'll hold the fort, Cormac. Hurry up and get her."

  "Thank you." Cormac raised his voice for Nathan's benefit. "If the pilot moves this thing so much as an inch, shoot him in the head."

  ###

  Lydia almost smiled when Stephen Black slammed the boot of his car closed. McGoldrick thumped and roared from the inside.

  "Settle down, Mr McGoldrick." The ex-spook said. "You'll do yourself an injury."

  The thumping increased for a few seconds then stopped.

  "Is he okay?" Rory asked.

  "I don't give a shit," Lydia said. "He's a bastard."

  "Fair point, Mrs Gallagher," Stephen Black said. "Shall we go see your family?"

  Lydia looked towards the helicopter, now settled at the far end of the car park. She thought about kicking off her shoes and flat-out sprinting towards it, but she was hyper-aware of the possibility of more men with guns skulking in the darkness.

  "Ready when you are, Mr Black."

  "Very good. Keep your head down and follow me."

  Bent at the waist, Stephen Black began to weave his way through the parked cars. Lydia followed close behind with Rory taking up the rear. They moved quickly, their footsteps drowned out by the thunderous noise of the helicopter. She allowed herself to think that they might actually make it to the other side of the car park.

  Glass exploded from the rear windo
w of a black BMW X5. Chunky fragments rained down on Lydia's hunched back. She screamed.

  Stephen Black scuttled forward and rolled over the bonnet of a silver Mercedes. He landed on his feet, turned and propped his elbows on the car. His pistol bucked in his hand. The smell of gunplay crowded Lydia's sinuses. She scrabbled on her hands and knees around the Mercedes and stalled at Stephen Black's side. Rory followed close behind her, hyperventilating.

  "We're so fucked," Rory said.

  "We'll be fine, my friend." Stephen Black dropped down on one knee and ejected the spent clip from his gun. He produced a fresh one from somewhere underneath his tracksuit top and slid it home. Then he jacked the slide. "I'm not fond of getting shot. Stay close to me."

  "Did you get them?" Lydia asked.

  "Afraid not. They're a slippery duo."

  "Do you think there are more of them out there?"

  "No, they'd have engaged by now. That's not to say reinforcements aren't on their way, though. We got wise to Mr McGoldrick's move sooner than he would have liked."

  "The little bastard."

  "Indeed."

  "I don't get it." Rory said. "What's McGoldrick after? The guy's already richer than an oil sheik."

  "I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of it soon enough, old chap."

  Stephen Black broke the wing mirror off the Mercedes and held it above his head. He angled it to get a sweeping view of the car park.

  "Can you see them?" Lydia asked.

  He shook his head. "They're probably trying to close in on us."

  "We better get moving again, then." Rory said. "Stay ahead of them."

  "Unfortunately, there's not a lot of cover between here and the helicopter."

  "Then we attack." Rory said. "Do you have a spare gun, Stevie?"

  "Have you ever shot one?"

  "No."

  Stephen Black smiled and shook his head. "Then, no."

  "What can we do?" Lydia asked.

  "Either we wait for the biker boys to slip up and give away their position, or we sit tight then shoot when they make their move."

  "That doesn't seem like a very good plan."

  "I'll happily accept suggestions, Mrs Gallagher."

  Lydia's phone blasted its Lady Gaga ringtone. She snatched it from her jacket pocket with the speed of a quick-draw gunslinger and silenced the music.

  "Fuck's sake," Rory said. "Who the fuck is that?"