Chapter 5 - The Loyal and the Lost
The sedan tore through the wet streets of Dublin,
the tires splashing through deep puddles.
Killian drove with a fierce intensity,
his hands gripping the steering wheel.
The rain was pouring down now,
blurring the city lights into a smear of grey and yellow.
“Tell me about your past,
Norah,”
Killian said suddenly,
not looking away from the road.
“A maid does not notice a suppressed weapon in a mirror.”
“A maid does not stay calm under sniper fire.”
I stared out the window,
watching the dark outline of the city pass by.
“My father was a watchmaker,”
I said softly.
“He taught me to pay attention to the smallest gears.”
“He said that if one tiny gear is out of place,
the whole watch stops.”
“And what happened to him?”
Killian asked.
“He owed money to the wrong people,”
I replied.
“Men like you.”
“They took his shop,
then they took his life.”
“I became a maid to survive,
to disappear in plain sight.”
Killian was silent for a long moment,
the only sound the rhythmic wiping of the windshield wipers.
“I am sorry for your father,”
he said,
and for a man of his stature,
it was a monumental admission.
“But I am not the one who killed him.”
“I know,”
I said.
“If I thought you did,
I would have let Kieran pull the trigger.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face,
then vanished as we neared the industrial district.
The Dublin docks rose before us,
a forest of rusted cranes and towering shipping containers.
The area was dark,
deserted,
and smelled of salt water and diesel.
Killian parked the sedan behind an old warehouse,
turning off the engine.
He reached into the back seat,
pulling out a heavy duffel bag.
He unzipped it,
revealing an assortment of automatic rifles and body armor.
He handed me a lightweight pistol,
checking to see if I knew how to hold it.
I took the weapon,
the cold steel heavy in my hand.
“Do you know how to use this?”
he asked.
“Point and pull,”
I said.
“Keep your head down,”
he added,
strapping a bulletproof vest over his chest.
“We are entering the devil’s playground.”
We slipped out of the car,
moving through the heavy rain toward the main pier.
In the distance,
the lights of a large cargo ship flickered through the storm.
May you like
The shipment was here,
and so were the traitors.
