Undercover Read Online Free Page B

a sign to speak. "Okay. So, I'm sorry, Mr O'Neill. I'll apologise to Paddy as well, if he'll accept it."
    "What makes you think you're going to get the opportunity to apologise to Paddy? Do you not think I should send you packing?"
    "With all due respect, Mr O'Neill, we both know you're not in a position to do that."
    "Am I not?"
    Cormac knew he was juggling chainsaws, but he had to make sure that he saw the job through. The whole investigation would fall to pieces if he got kicked off O'Neill's crew.
    "Those connections you mentioned, Mr O'Neill... my Real IRA friends... I'd have to call in a favour or two with them."
    O'Neill looked Cormac in the eye for a couple of heartbeats. Then he lunged as fast as a cobra strike. Cormac kicked himself away from the table and toppled his chair as he rolled off the back of it. He tried to push himself upright. O'Neill scrambled over the table and landed a push-kick on his sternum. Flipped him onto his back. O'Neill drew his gun. He aimed at Cormac's face.
    "You stupid bastard," O'Neill said. "Threatening me ?"
    Cormac puffed hard. He thought he might be able to kick the gun out of O'Neill's hand from his position on the floor. Anger had made the boss a little sloppy. But he held still.
    O'Neill stepped back a few paces. "Get up."
    Cormac got to his feet, slow and steady, never taking his eyes off O'Neill.
    "Maybe I can't get rid of you," O'Neill said. "But I can't let you off with such a lack of respect either."
    O'Neill double-stepped on his diagonal and flanked Cormac. His arm arced in a cross between a hook and a hammer blow. Cormac caught the butt of O'Neill's automatic pistol on the back of his head. The lights went right out.
    ###
    "Y ou were meant to phone hours ago."
    "Wind your neck in, woman. We phone when we phone. Be grateful for it."
    Through her blend of rage, panic and utter confusion, Lydia registered that the voice on the other line was different from the last. She wondered if this was the one who'd been videoed with Mattie and entertained a brief revenge fantasy that was heavy on castration.
    "Just let me talk to my family."
    "Mummy?" It was Mattie but something wasn't right. His voice was higher-pitched and he hadn't called her "Mummy" in years.
    "Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?"
    Mattie snuffled and squeaked. He was having trouble catching his breath.
    "Did they hurt you?"
    "Fat guy... got me."
    "Oh Mattie, sweetheart. Are you okay?"
    "Kicked—"
    Mattie's voice was cut off by a rustling at his end. Lydia figured somebody had snatched the phone by the mouthpiece.
    The gruff mystery voice returned. "That's your lot."
    "Wait. What happened to my son?"
    "The boy's fine."
    "Let me talk to him again. Put him on the phone now!"
    "You don't call the shots, woman."
    "Did you hurt him?"
    " I didn't, no."
    "You bastards!"
    The line went dead. Lydia had aimlessly walked in circles outside the café as she spoke to Mattie and his captor. She found herself at the Merc they'd arrived in. Without thinking, she drove a high-heeled kick into the passenger side fender. The impact rattled upwards from her toes to her hip. She twirled on her left foot as the right flared in agony. Then she leant backwards against the car and laid a hand across her mouth. Her guts burbled a threat and she fought hard to contain it.
    And then Rory was in front of her. "What the fuck's wrong, Lydia?"
    She held up one finger and shook her head as if she'd a mouthful of steak to chew through before she could speak. Rory hopped from foot to foot. Waited for her to respond.
    "I got some bad news," Lydia said. "Nothing for you to worry about. Just a deal gone wrong for another client."
    Rory looked pointedly at the small dent in the Merc's bodywork. "Must have been a hell of a deal."
    "You have no idea."
    He looked her up and down. Lingered on her eyes, which Lydia knew had to be puffed up and set to burst. Then he slipped his hands into his pockets and casually kicked at a loose stone on the badly surfaced