Peter moved quickly to the motor scooter and let the air out of the front tire. They would believe a flat tire but not a knife cut in the tire. While near the sea wall, Peter checked the meeting site. He was surprised to see the man in the blue windbreaker walking closely beside Bernadette. The scooter couple was still on the beach obviously playing the rear guard role.

Peter ran back to the VW, opened the sliding side door, and stepped inside. When the IRA thug with Bernadette approached he said, “Harry, get behind the fucking wheel. I got her.” The blue windbreaker pushed Bernadette inside and got in behind her. He didn’t see Peter and yelled, “Harry, get moving.” Blue windbreaker pushed the sliding door closed.

Peter hit him behind the head with the Luger’s butt. He sank to the floor. Bernadette was in his arms. She said, “I knew you would save me. But I was getting worried.”

“You are not completely saved yet. They’re two more out on the beach. They’ll be along any minute. We’ve got to get going. Mr. IRA thug is a practical sort. There’s a roll of duct tape back here. Very convenient. I’ll get this thug wrapped up. You take my truck keys and Browning and follow the scooter people. No chances. Just see where they go. They’ll be bewildered. The VW camper will be gone.

“Their scooter has a flat front tire. I let the air out. Get the truck someplace where you can see them coming out. They’ll be going fast. Just stay close enough to keep them in sight. Probably brought at least one handgun, and now they have your .45. Their job was to do clean up.”

As Bernadette was getting out of the VW she said, “His name is Sam Conners. And he is a bad one. He’s killed several people, including IRA members who he thought were out of line. He told me he was going to rape me and then beat me so badly, I would never have to worry about any other man wanting me.”

“He will never bother you again. After you find out where the scooter people go, come home. I’m going to put Conners and the VW in the detached garage and boat house in the marsh behind the house.”

“Okay. Take care, Peter Brandon. These are mean, treacherous people. Conners will have had a gun and a knife.”

“I got the snub nose .38 Smith and Wesson. It dropped out of his hand when I hit him. Remember no chances. Just get home safe.”

Bernadette hurried back to the pickup truck. Looking up she saw the VW with Peter at the wheel wearing the driver’s cap and sunglasses. She moved the Ford out of the beach lot to a street position where she could see the exit of the public beach lot and be able to move to follow the scooter no matter which way they turned coming out of the lot. She knew it would be at least 15 minutes before the scooter couple could get their front tire checked and inflated.

Peter headed straight for his house. He had the remote from his truck that controlled the resident’s gate in his pocket so he didn’t have to risk the guard at the main gate wanting to check the run-down VW camper before allowing him through. It wasn’t every day that a guard could find a dead man and another one taped up under a blanket on the floor of a vehicle driven by a resident.

Turning into his driveway he punched in the access code and when the gate swung open he drove around to the back of the house, past the pool, and down a narrow, unpaved track to a detached garage and boat house some 100 feet from the house.

Peter closed the garage door and made sure Conners could not move or make any noise. He then called Terry from the boathouse phone. When Terry answered after several rings, Peter said, “So far okay. It was a snatch operation, only we snatched the leader instead. Bernadette is okay and should be here soon. But I need you now. Be careful coming over. These people are serious. They sent four armed people to get Bernadette.

“Come straight back to the boat house when you come. I’ll be inside waiting for you.”

“I’m on my way,” Terry said.