Sins of Omission: A Declan McIver Story (Black Shuck Thriller Series)

  SINS OF OMISSION

  A Declan McIver Story

  Copyright ? 2015 by Ian Matthew Graham

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted without the prior permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Published by:

  Kirkgrim Books

  P.O. Box 511

  Cloverdale, VA 24077

  Published in the United States of America

  Cover design by Jane Dixon-Smith (www.jdsmith-design.co.uk)

  Author Photo by Colin Graham

  To Hannah - Watch out for those butterflies :)

 

  SINS OF OMISSION

  Chapter One

  10:52 p.m. Local Time - Thursday, 7th June 1990

  Glenshesk Road

  Armoy, Northern Ireland

  The ancient church loomed on the crag overhead as Declan McIver revved the Honda motorcycle and leaned into the turn that would bring him up the hill and around into the twelfth century churchyard. Bringing the bike to a stop next to the rock wall surrounding the property, he could see a man waiting at the base of the church's round tower, the moonlight cutting between the many gravestones to illuminate him as he lingered, alone.

  Declan reached into a saddlebag and withdrew a Beretta pistol, tucking it into his black rain jacket as he stood from the bike and removed his helmet, his shortly trimmed blond hair undisturbed by the headgear. While he had once trusted the man he was meeting with his life, a lot had changed in the past six months. At the edge of the wall, he stepped up the overgrown hill and into the graveyard surrounding the church, his eyes moving about as he zigzagged between the tombs to the base of the tower.

  "Has it really gone that bad?" the man said with a frown on his pallid face. "Never thought we'd need guns to come and talk to each other."

  "You always need a gun in this country. Why did you call?"

  "For Christ's sake, Dec, we've been friends for eight years. What do you mean why did I call?"

  Shane O'Reilly was right. They had been friends for eight years, and in that time they'd formed the kind of bond that only soldiers fighting a war side by side could know. Declan considered the shaggy, red headed youth for a moment and then relaxed. "Aye, get over here you. How ya been?"

  The two gripped each other's forearms tightly.

  "Grand, just grand." Shane said as they separated.

  "How're things at home?"

  Shane shrugged. "Not been there much really. Kinda busy and all."

  "Aye. So why did you call?"

  "Because there's a lot to talk about," another voice said loudly from the covered doorway of the church. Declan turned fast and drew the Beretta.

  "Easy!" a dark haired man with a lined face said raising his hands as he stepped out of the darkened entrance. "I'm just here to talk."

  Declan kept the pistol aimed but flashed a hateful glance at Shane.

  "I'm sorry, Dec." Shane said shaking his head. "He just wants to talk, and it's important."

  Declan turned his eyes back toward Eamon McGuire who still stood with his hands raised to shoulder level. "I told you I didn't want to talk to ya, that I didn't want anything to do with ya, didn't I? Leave me alone." He flipped the safety on the Beretta and lowered it. He didn't trust McGuire as far as he could throw him, but the man wasn't a threat. At least not to him, not now. He walked briskly back toward the motorcycle.

  "It's Meaghan, Dec!" Shane called. "It's Meaghan McCraven!"

  Declan stopped at the name of his former girlfriend.

  "That's why he's here. That's why I brought him!"

  Slowly, Declan turned back and looked at the two men. Shane had a pleading look. "I wouldn't have broken your confidence if I didn't think what he had to say was important."

  "It's a gesture of good will, between you and me." McGuire said as he lowered his hands. "Your bird's in trouble, or at least she's going to be."

  "She's not mine. Not anymore."

  McGuire nodded. "But you still care for her. I know you do. You never stopped. She's going to get herself killed and possibly a lot of others, too."

  Declan took a deep breath and walked back to the base of the tower.

  "First off," McGuire said, "I don't bear you any ill will. I never have. You're like a son to me. You're all like sons to me. I know times have been hard, but we're a family, and I'm here because I want us all to get through this, alive and well."

  Declan nodded. He couldn't argue with McGuire's claim. The McGuire family had been good to him. Somewhere deep inside he knew he wasn't being fair by turning his back on them, but he felt like he had to if he was ever going to get away from the violent life he had been leading for the last seven years. "So what about Meaghan?"

  "After you left for Afghanistan, one of the lads said she'd fallen in with a group of Provos out of Belfast. Ciaran Donovan's in charge of that lot now. They've been planning some dicey operations. They've sent the unit she's with to Anguilla."

  "Anguilla?"

  "Aye. It's a British territory in the Caribbean. They're planning to put a bomb along the route of a parade honoring the Queen's birthday. It's just like the botched attack in Gibraltar. The Brits are all over it. The unit's gonna be slaughtered."

  "The SAS?"

  McGuire shook his head. "No. This'll be even worse. The Brits learned from the bad press after they shot down the ASU in Gibraltar. This time they've sent a group of Defence Regiment boys linked to the Ulster Freedom Fighters."

  "They're going to blame a rival paramilitary?"

  McGuire nodded. "Aye, and there's talk they've been given orders to go ahead with the bombing so the IRA can be blamed."

  "So why do you care about stopping this? Sounds like it's right up your alley to me."

  "C'mon Declan. I deserve better than that and you know it. Attacking the Royals or anything to do with them has never brought us anything but trouble. Donovan's gone mad. I doubt he could even pick an Anguillan out of a line up, yet he's gonna blow 'em up just because it's the Queen's birthday. There's nothing but bad press to be had here, and Meaghan's going to end up with a bullet between the eyes for it."

  "But not if we stop it, mate." Shane put in.

  "I can get you to the island and I know where they're holed up." McGuire said. "There's not a lot of time but there's enough if you get moving. Are ya in?"

  Declan grimaced. "Aye. I'm in."

  Chapter Two

  1:56 p.m. Local Time - Saturday, 9th June 1990

  Anguilla Wallblake Airport

  The Valley, Anguilla