Ashes to Ashes
Chapter Three
Christmas Day came all too quickly. Darragh rose early, before Grainne got up with the baby, and threw some clothes on, heading out of the door after kissing his young wife goodbye. He hated days like this. He never knew if he was going to come back or not.
He crept into the children's rooms, and kissed them goodbye also. Three year old Miceál, two year old Aoibheann and six month old Caolan didn’t stir. They carried on sleeping soundly, and Darragh sighed, praying with all his heart, soul and mind that he was going to come back to them.
Darragh arrived at Diarmuid's house soon afterwards, ignoring the greeting and only speaking to Oisin while they were there.
"Merry Christmas," Oisin smiled thinly, as Darragh came into the living room.
"What's so bloody merry about it?" he asked grimly. Oisin smiled again and claped his friend on the back.
"It'll be all over soon, Darragh."
"Here's what I want youse to do." Diarmuid said as he came into the room. "We've got a car all sorted for you. The AK-47 is under the front passenger seat. You get there, and under no circumstances, Oisin, do you get out of the car. Darragh's in charge of this one. Darragh, you get out and bang on the door. She always answers the door, and she always looks through the peephole. Make sure the gun is out of sight. When she opens the door, have the gun ready, pointing at her. Get them in the living room and for the love of God don't point the gun anywhere but her. God knows what she'll do … anyway, he'll come in and you know the rest."
"Yes, Diarmuid, I know. Blast someone to pieces in front of their wife and child on the day of the birth of our Lord and Saviour. I know."
"Oh, for God's sake, Darragh. Just shut up and do it. You're a fucking IRA man now." Darragh stuck his middle finger up and then walked out of the house, Oisin smiling apologectically and following him.
"I don't know how you don’t want to thump that man." Darragh muttered through gritted teeth as they began the short drive to Duxford House.
"I just don't think he's worth it." Oisin shrugged, smiling softly and calmly. Oisin always seemed to be calm. Darragh never knew how or why he was always so calm. He certainly didn’t look like an IRA man. "There are, after all, better things to worry about."
"I suppose." Darragh sighed.
"You promise me you'll be careful out there today, all right?" Oisin asked his friend quietly. "Don't make me come in there!" Darragh laughed.
"You're not allowed, young man." he laughed. "I'll be careful. I may loathe having to work all the time but I still do my job right." The car stopped at the end of a long, tree-lined drive, and Darragh pinned a name tag to his jacket which read "Patrick" and threw a rucksack over his shoulder, looking casual.
"If I passed you in the street I would say you're an electrician." Oisin observed as Darragh got out of the car.
"Mission accomplished." Darragh winked. He waved at Oisin as he shut the door, and Oisin crossed his fingers and smiled.
Darragh walked slowly and very casually up the road, whistling to himself. He trotted up to the front door and rapped on it joyfully. Now he was an IRA man. Now was the time he had to zone everything out, and do what had to be done.
The house was massive, and Darragh could easily fit his whole street into the surrounding grounds. There must have been over ten bedrooms, and the living room was massive – he could see that from the front of the house.
"Who could that be?" he heard someone mutter. Darragh smiled as he saw an eye appear at the peephole of the door. It disappeared, and as he heard the chain being taken off the door Darragh expertly pulled the gun out of the bag, slotting it together just as the door was pulled open.
The woman was middle-aged, and she gasped as she saw what was in Darragh's hand and went to slam the door shut.
"Hold it right there!" he snarled, pointing the gun straight at her. She whimpered, but froze. Darragh stepped over the threshold and into the house, kicking the door closed behind him and keeping the gun right in her chest. She watched him with wide eyes, not taking her eyes off his. "Get into the fucking living room."
"Please, no," she whispered. "Not today. Come one, lad, not today."
"SHUT UP! Get the fuck in there!" Darragh screamed at her, and she turned and hurried into the living room, gathering two children close to her, who looked about seven and ten. He pointed the gun at them, and sat down in the chair opposite. "And now we wait."
He crept into the children's rooms, and kissed them goodbye also. Three year old Miceál, two year old Aoibheann and six month old Caolan didn’t stir. They carried on sleeping soundly, and Darragh sighed, praying with all his heart, soul and mind that he was going to come back to them.
Darragh arrived at Diarmuid's house soon afterwards, ignoring the greeting and only speaking to Oisin while they were there.
"Merry Christmas," Oisin smiled thinly, as Darragh came into the living room.
"What's so bloody merry about it?" he asked grimly. Oisin smiled again and claped his friend on the back.
"It'll be all over soon, Darragh."
"Here's what I want youse to do." Diarmuid said as he came into the room. "We've got a car all sorted for you. The AK-47 is under the front passenger seat. You get there, and under no circumstances, Oisin, do you get out of the car. Darragh's in charge of this one. Darragh, you get out and bang on the door. She always answers the door, and she always looks through the peephole. Make sure the gun is out of sight. When she opens the door, have the gun ready, pointing at her. Get them in the living room and for the love of God don't point the gun anywhere but her. God knows what she'll do … anyway, he'll come in and you know the rest."
"Yes, Diarmuid, I know. Blast someone to pieces in front of their wife and child on the day of the birth of our Lord and Saviour. I know."
"Oh, for God's sake, Darragh. Just shut up and do it. You're a fucking IRA man now." Darragh stuck his middle finger up and then walked out of the house, Oisin smiling apologectically and following him.
"I don't know how you don’t want to thump that man." Darragh muttered through gritted teeth as they began the short drive to Duxford House.
"I just don't think he's worth it." Oisin shrugged, smiling softly and calmly. Oisin always seemed to be calm. Darragh never knew how or why he was always so calm. He certainly didn’t look like an IRA man. "There are, after all, better things to worry about."
"I suppose." Darragh sighed.
"You promise me you'll be careful out there today, all right?" Oisin asked his friend quietly. "Don't make me come in there!" Darragh laughed.
"You're not allowed, young man." he laughed. "I'll be careful. I may loathe having to work all the time but I still do my job right." The car stopped at the end of a long, tree-lined drive, and Darragh pinned a name tag to his jacket which read "Patrick" and threw a rucksack over his shoulder, looking casual.
"If I passed you in the street I would say you're an electrician." Oisin observed as Darragh got out of the car.
"Mission accomplished." Darragh winked. He waved at Oisin as he shut the door, and Oisin crossed his fingers and smiled.
Darragh walked slowly and very casually up the road, whistling to himself. He trotted up to the front door and rapped on it joyfully. Now he was an IRA man. Now was the time he had to zone everything out, and do what had to be done.
The house was massive, and Darragh could easily fit his whole street into the surrounding grounds. There must have been over ten bedrooms, and the living room was massive – he could see that from the front of the house.
"Who could that be?" he heard someone mutter. Darragh smiled as he saw an eye appear at the peephole of the door. It disappeared, and as he heard the chain being taken off the door Darragh expertly pulled the gun out of the bag, slotting it together just as the door was pulled open.
The woman was middle-aged, and she gasped as she saw what was in Darragh's hand and went to slam the door shut.
"Hold it right there!" he snarled, pointing the gun straight at her. She whimpered, but froze. Darragh stepped over the threshold and into the house, kicking the door closed behind him and keeping the gun right in her chest. She watched him with wide eyes, not taking her eyes off his. "Get into the fucking living room."
"Please, no," she whispered. "Not today. Come one, lad, not today."
"SHUT UP! Get the fuck in there!" Darragh screamed at her, and she turned and hurried into the living room, gathering two children close to her, who looked about seven and ten. He pointed the gun at them, and sat down in the chair opposite. "And now we wait."