Jack, Rip, Peter, and Bernadette thrived that long winter in the cabin. The Nguyens’ soon had the cabin running like a resort. All were excited to move into the McLean house. Peter told Jack he would now have other kids to play with and a good school to go to. Jack asked, “What about Rip?”

Bernadette said, “Rip will have a big place to run and he will guard us just like he does now. There will be a swimming pool next summer and you can help build it. And I’ll be going to school at American University where I’ll learn about people and things in South Asia. A long way from here. On the otherside of the world. Someday we will all make a trip to India and Nepal.”

Peter knew he was committed to helping his new country. The haul from O’Hara’s office led to the CIA identification of the traitor Congressman who was now doing time. O’Hara had been deported and the bomb plot stopped. A sharp note to the Soviets destroyed Yuri’s career, and he was recalled to Moscow.

Peter and Bernadette had talked over many issues. All of them related to their future together. Bernadette with the wisdom of the Irish said, “When the time comes, the way will be clear. For now, lets enjoy what we have. It has never been better for me. Peter quietly and gently took her into his arms and held her tightly, and said, “Amen.”

 

The end.

Early November

 

Peter made arrangement to close up the Florida house. In early November Peter, Bernadette, Jack and Rip went to the cabin to rest and recover from Terry’s death. Bernadette always felt safer at the cabin. Bernadette and Peter placed a bronze plaque inside the hidden room Terry helped build to honor his life of service. The Nguyens stayed behind to complete the job and take their own brief vacation before joining the family at the Pennsylvania cabin.

Living in the Pennsylvania Allegheny Mountains in the winter, left little time for remorse. Peter was in charge of cutting and hauling wood to heat the cabin. Bernadette helped him and did all the cleaning and cooking with Jack’s help. Mostly, Jack and Rip romped in the snow and slid down the hill on a small toboggan Peter bought in Somerset. Rip wouldn’t get on the toboggan but loved to chase it down the hill and jump on Jack at the bottom. The Nguyens arrived three weeks later, just in front of a big snowstorm. They went right to work.

As soon as the roads opened up and Peter had cleared the driveway with his new John Deere tractor, he decided to leave Jack and Rip with the Nguyens and take Bernadette to visit Terry’s grave-site in Arlington. He also made an appointment to see Lee Jensen in McLean. After some serious thought, he and Bernadette decided maybe McLean would be a good place to settle in, so he had asked Lee to keep his eyes open for a house with some land.

It was a four-hour road trip from the cabin to McLean in good weather. In their new Jeep Station Wagon they made good time over the snow-covered roads. Near Tysons Corners, they checked into a Marriot Hotel. The next day was overcast and threatening additional snow. Arlington Cemetery was a lonely, forlorn place. It fit their mood. They found Terry’s grave after a little trouble and Bernadette knelt and talked to her Uncle Terry while quietly sobbing. When she finished, Peter took her arm and they walked back to the Jeep.

After lunch at the McLean Deli, they went to Lee’s office. Lee told Bernadette how sorry he was about Terry. “Terry saved my life in Vietnam more than once. He was a great and compassionate warrior and the nation needs more people like him.”

Lee told them Peter’s seed money had turned into a fortune. A number of technical IPO’s they had heavily invested in had paid off far beyond expectations. Lee had managed to convert half of the diamonds into cash through several steps. Peter was now a legitimate businessman with real tax obligations!

Lee also had some houses he wanted to show them. Both of them loved the second house they saw.which overlooked the McLean Public Library with an acre of fenced land backing up to a local park. Peter told Lee to make it happen.

After making arrangements for a move into the new house in a few months and playing tourist in Washington, Peter and Bernadette drove back to the mountain cabin. The day was sunny and bright. Bernadette was able to smile and laugh again. Both felt the imminent danger they had been living with had faded into the background.

October 24, 1977

 

The next morning Peter and Bernadette slept in. They awoke when Mrs. Nguyen brought in coffee with fresh baked biscuits, bacon, and medium poached eggs. Peter was on his second cup of coffee when he switched on the morning news. He was half following a shooting and a fire in Fernandina Beach when he realized the local anchor was talking about Terry’s condo. People had called in a 911 report of gunfire very early in the morning.

When the 911 calls brought the police, they found two dead men in the entrance hall, another one on the staircase and a fire rapidly gaining headway. The fire department couldn’t save the house. Arson is suspected. All three men were found with weapons. “No identities as yet, but the condo is owned by a Mr. Terry O’Brien,” the TV reporter said.

Peter rushed into the bathroom and got Bernadette out of the shower. When she said, “What?” Peter said, “Come quick, look at the TV! Some people killed Terry last night! His condo has burned to a gutted shell. The reporter said two dead armed men were found in the entranceway.”

Bernadette screamed, “The bastards were after me and killed Terry to satisfy their crazy code. I’ll find them and kill every last one.”

“Yes! But not now! I won’t let you throw your life away. Terry died for you and me. Don’t let him down by making his sacrifice in vain. He wanted to give you a chance to live. You have that now. Respect him as a great warrior who loved you. He died a warrior’s death. He took at least two of them with him.”

“Oh, Peter! Will they never let me be? If I had stayed in Ireland with the IRA, Terry would be alive right now.” Bernadette, still wrapped in a towel, dropped to the floor with her head in her hands.

“No. It just doesn’t work like that,” Peter said, rushing to hold her. “First, Terry wouldn’t hesitate a second over giving his life for yours. Keep the good and happy memories of your remarkable uncle. . What do you think Terry did for a living? He constantly put his life on the line to perform some mission or other. Some worth it, some not.

“Protecting you was the best mission he ever had. I want you to remember your Uncle was a true hero and he loved you. His sacrifice caused your enemies to fail. Let’s keep it that way. Terry made many serious enemies in his decades of military and security work. I think the IRA was behind this, but we can’t be sure now. It is time to wait and let them thrash around looking for someone they now will never find. That is victory. That is a gift Terry gave you.”

No one from the Brandon house attended Terry’s funeral service. Peter knew the IRA could have someone there taking pictures. Bernadette was upset by not being able to get some closure from Terry’s military funeral. His remains were interred at Arlington.

October 23, 1977

 

The return trip to Tysons Corners in Virginia was even easier than trip up to Boston. The stress was gone. The operation had gone smoothly. Their adjustment to unforeseen events was nearly flawless. No one got hurt, not even the muggers. They will never know that they had flirted with death and escaped. During the entire fight, both Peter and Bernadette had weapons ready to fire in their hands.

Peter and Bernadette had quickly scanned the boxes of documents. They found nothing about a terrorist attack on the Old Executive Office building next to the White House and under White House Secret Service protection. Nor did they find anything about Soviet involvement. But Terry noted one of the wallets taken from the men on the floor contained an I.D. badge to the House of Representatives.

Peter talked to Frank at the CIA and told him the borrowed equipment and their take from O’Hara’s office were put in the same storage unit, and he and his team were leaving the area. Twenty minutes after his call they were in the Red Carpet Lounge waiting for their flight to Jacksonville to be called.

Terry said, ‘This anti-terrorist stuff is picking up. First class travel, luxury hotels, great food, and moments of action to escape the boredom of peaceful living.”

“Terry, God bless you, but I’m ready for a big chunk of peaceful living. It’s good to see you back. I was worried about you going up to Boston,” said Peter.

“So was I. I had lost my confidence in tight situations over my stupidity in getting shot and damn near killed. I’m over that now and feel good.”

“Amen. I was also more than worried. I wanted my Uncle Terry back. You know, the one who walked without fear.”

As their flight descended into Jacksonville Airport, Bernadette put her head on Peter’s shoulder and said, “Maybe the IRA threat can be put behind us now. What do you think?”

“Maybe so but let’s keep our guard up for a while longer. My enemies will never give up looking for me. But I think I have lost them for now.”

Bernadette pulled the Cadillac up two blocks from Terry’s condo. Terry had only light luggage and had drilled her into following a security protocol. “Never be so careless that someone watching this condo, which was also your address of record, could connect you to the Brandon house,” Terry had told her multiple times.

It bothered her that while Terry was going in to an empty house, she and Peter were going to a home that was filled with love, noise, and laughter with a few barks thrown in.

As they moved in close, Bernadette moaned and Peter spun and drove the heel of his right hand into to the chest of the nearest attacker but not hard enough to kill him. Bernadette took advantage of her legs free of her skirt to hit the second attacker in the side of his head with a sweeping inside crescent kick. Peter put the last one down with a neck lock that shut off the flow of blood to the brain. He would wake up in a few minutes with a sore neck and headache.

Bernadette helped Peter drag the three unconscious muggers behind a dumpster. He ripped their pants and shoes off and threw them in the dumpster and said, “By the time they get moving, we will be inside. Our five minutes is almost up.”

When Peter eased the door open, he could see Terry standing near the ladies’ room like he was waiting for his woman to come out. It took Peter less than 30 seconds to open the office door. Inside he relocked the door, put a chair up against the doorknob, and joined Bernadette in searching the office. There were no windows so they felt comfortable switching on one light at a time. Bernadette quickly found a wall safe but both knew there wasn’t enough time to even try to open it. Instead they concentrated on the two four-drawer file cabinets whose locks were simple.

Peter found two empty cardboard boxes and began dumping any documents that looked important into the boxes. He wanted to be in and out in no more than five minutes. They were pushing the time. Without getting into the safe, they had done all they could. Peter called to Bernadette it was time to break off and leave.

They each picked up a box and headed for the door when they heard the door being unlocked. Peter moved the chair he had placed under the doorknob. The door swung open and several men started to enter. Peter and Bernadette flanked the door. There was a sudden commotion at the door as Terry charged, pushing everyone inside. The group was surrounded by three people pointing guns at them. Peter spoke, “No talking. Anyone even looking like they are reaching for a weapon will die. Everyone on the floor face down. We’re just looking for a chance to kill you. Don’t give it to us.”

Bernadette pointed out O’Hara. Peter walked over to where he was lying uncomfortable on the floor and showed his I.D. that he was a federal agent. He then grabbed O’Hara by the front of his suit coat and pulled him to his feet. When he had O’Hara away from the others, he said, “I’m going to give you two minutes to open your safe. If you don’t, I’ll put the first slug in your knee and go on from there until it is open. You won’t be alive if the safe doesn’t get open in two minutes.”

“You don’t scare me. The FBI does not operate like that.”

Peter chuckled, “We are nothing like the FBI. I don’t intend to arrest you if you cooperate. That’s the good news. The bad news is if you don’t cooperate you will die or almost die, depending on how I feel. Now open the safe.”

O’Hara hesitated and Peter shoved the sound suppressor on his 9mm hard into O’Hara’s throat, just under his chin. He looked hard at O’Hara and said, “Last chance.”

O’Hara moved to open the safe, and it was open in less than 30 seconds. Peter put O’Hara back on the floor and not very gently. After dumping the contents of the wall safe in one of the boxes, Terry and Peter collected wallets from all the men. Bernadette was out in the hall. O’Hara hadn’t gotten a good look at her.

Bernadette and Terry, carrying the boxes, went out the back door to the Ford wagon. Peter stayed behind to give them more time for the getaway. He pulled the phone out of the wall and took all the car keys. The door to the office required a key to open from either side. Seeing two of the guns had left the room, one very big man started to get up. Peter hit him behind the neck with an axe kick that drove him back on the floor. No one else moved. Peter took a picture of each man, then left, locking the door from the outside with O’Hara’s key.

The wagon was standing by to pick him up as he left the alley. As Peter got in the car, he was smiling. Bernadette knew what he was smiling about. She, too, had seen the three muggers dumpster diving for their shoes and pants. They wouldn’t forget attacking the romantic couple in the alleyway.

The waitress came up to take their dinner order, providing additional screen for Bernadette. By the time they finished ordering, Mary and her two escorts had moved farther into the pub. Peter got up and went in search of the men’s room. He found it halfway down a hallway in the very back of the club. There was a door at the end of the hall that looked to Peter like it was a door to the outside. O’Hara must have a key to the outside door and the only other door, halfway down the hall, must be the door to his headquarters.

He could see no cameras or sensor systems. The lock seemed similar to the outside door lock, which was a deadbolt type lock. When O’Hara’s in residence, there would probably be a guard in the hallway, watching both doors. A real problem, he thought. If we go in while he is in the office, there is bound to be a gunfight. We would win but the consequences may be bad. Cops would be here quickly and take everyone who might have been involved into custody.

He had seen all he needed and made his way through the crowd to their booth. He saw Mary and her group at a table near to the hallway corner he had just cased. If Bernadette comes this way, Mary will see her for sure.

Back at the table, Peter said, “Okay. Here’s the way it is going down.” He explained the layout he had seen and compared it to the blueprint Frank gave him. It all checked out. The end door was an outside door and the other door led to a two-room suite. When Terry and Bernadette were familiar with the layout, Peter said, “I’ll call the waitress over and pay the bill, leaving a big enough tip to let Terry keep the booth and order a dessert. Bernadette and I will go out and down the alley to the outside door.

“Bernadette will cover me while I open the lock. We’ll go inside and I’ll open the door to O’Hara’s office. Terry gives us five minutes and then goes back to the men’s room. By that time, Bernadette and I should be in O’Hara’s office. If anyone comes in and heads for the office door, follow them and push in behind them. We will hear the door bang against a chair I put there and come to the door with guns out. Kill anyone who looks like they are going to be a problem. We’ll use our cop credentials if we have to. Anyone who surrenders, we can tie up and leave. But we can’t leave anyone alive who’s recognized Bernadette.

“Your friend Mary and her crowd would see you for sure if you walked to the back of the bar. Okay, here comes our waitress. The clock is ticking.”

Peter and Bernadette were out the door before Terry’s dessert arrived. They were outside the alley door to O’Keefe’s forty-five seconds later. Bernadette stood with her back to the wall beside the door, partially screening a crouching Peter from anyone looking down the alley from State Street. He said, “A few more seconds.”

“You don’t have any more time. Here comes trouble. Three young men think we’re an easy mugging. They’ll be here in five seconds. Pin me against the wall like you’re fucking me. I’ll pull up my skirt. The sight will put them off guard. When they get up close, I’ll moan as the signal for you to show them they had a bad idea.”

The leader of the three stopped and said, “Will you look at the legs on that bitch? Bet her tits are world class. Let’s have a closer look.”

October 22, 1977

 

The eight-hour trip passed quickly. Terry slept in the back. Peter and Bernadette took turns behind the wheel. They stopped once for gas and a pit stop. The hotel had provided Peter with one of their excellent travel lunches. By 6 PM, they were checked into an old but classy hotel in the historical section and ready to do a shopping walk-by on State Street and check out O’Keefe’s.

Some time before 9 PM, Bernadette would go inside and get a table and tell the waiter that she was expecting two more for dinner. Fifteen minutes later, Peter and Terry would join her and order dinner. Peter had a motorized Olympia camera that he could conceal in his palm and shoot pictures with a high-speed black and white film.

Their first pass of O’Keefe’s was made from across State Street. Bernadette said, “It looks like a bit of Ireland was just dropped into Boston. Even the specials displayed in the windows look authentic.”

After an hour of casual shopping, Bernadette walked out of a shop alone and made her way into O’Keefe’s. It was already getting crowded and a band had just started to play. Bernadette thought, This place is out of my recent past except I never had these upscale clothes and the cash to bribe the maître d’s to give a single woman a booth when the restaurant was nearly filled. I can even hear people speaking my mother tongue. If this is an IRA hangout, I haven’t recognized anyone yet. This booth is perfect for casing this place.

She settled into the booth. I’m a bit worried about Terry. He seems to be a long way from the way he was before he was shot. Some of the older IRA cadre talked about losing their edge as the years passed. One of them said, as long as you recognize you’ve not got the same quick reactions, you can make do. If you don’t see what’s happening with age, you’ll get someone or yourself killed. In truth, I no longer trust Terry to have my back or Peter’s.

Just then, she saw Terry and Peter come in. She waved and they started over. Peter looks so handsome in his tweed jacket. Terry’s bomber jacket sort of hangs on him. He has lost some muscle mass.

“Well, how are you, pretty lady? Bernadette, you really brighten up this corner.” Peter slid in the booth beside her and Terry took the other side of the booth facing the bar. The waitress hurried over and took their order for Guinness drafts. While waiting for the drafts, Terry announced he was going for the Shepherd’s pie, Peter said, “Sounds good to me.” Bernadette said, “The corned beef special for me.”

“Bernadette, how does this place fit the real Irish scene?” Peter asked.

“It is right on and I mean right on. No wonder it’s an IRA watering hole.”

“Do you see any one you recognize?”

“Only one, I think I’ve seen the big man at the bar who’s nearly bald somewhere before.”

Bernadette quickly turned her head to face Peter and said, “I spoke too soon. I know the three coming in the door now, two men and a woman. The woman is Mary Callahan. If she sees me, she will recognize me and come over. Terry, you are my uncle and Peter’s a new boyfriend. She will believe me and want to talk to me later. She has an uncanny eye for sensing money. My clothes, jewelry, and Peter’s outfit and Rolex watch will be noticed and immediately filed in her gold-digging head. She is a known IRA groupie and has slept with more men than most girls for hire.”

“As long as my body is screening you, I don’t think she will see you. When she moves away, I’m going back to the men’s room to take a look at the entrance door to O’Hara’s office,” Peter said.

October 21, 1977

 

 

 

The United Airlines flight from Jacksonville to Dulles International Airport touched down smoothly on the long runway and the shuttle bus moved them to main terminal. Peter went to pick up the Ford wagon rental, leaving Bernadette and Terry with the luggage.

Traffic was surprisingly light and they made good time to the Washington Hotel near Tysons Corner. Bernadette was elated to be back in the same suite. Terry said, “This is good. I like your style. If you two young and uninjured people don’t mind, the old man is going to rest a bit. Something tells me the next few days are going to be long and hard. So carry on. Wake me if you need me.”

“I understand old men need their rest. Bernadette and I will be doing some shopping in the mall. We may wake you for dinner.”

Walking through Bloomingdale’s, Peter took Bernadette’s arm and said, “You are beautiful and deserve to have some matching clothes for Boston. It will be cold and damp. And we will be moving in some so-called elegant circles and you should have clothes to fit the occasion. Pick some that change your appearance, so if we run into any IRA veterans they won’t recognize you. I noticed that I have to listen hard to hear your accent. Your cover story is that you are studying political and cultural history of the Sub-Continent and are planning a field trip to Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa. That will make most people’s eyes blink.”

“Lover, you have impressed me again. I had no idea you even knew anything about ancient civilizations in India and Pakistan.”

“So let’s dress you up as a snooty intellectual with an artsy flair.”

“I like that. I’m ready to get all tarted up.”

Two hours later, Bernadette finished shopping and met Peter at the store’s main entrance. His call to Frank hadn’t taken long, and the equipment he wanted was in a self-storage facility in Vienna, just a few miles west of McLean. The storage facility was locked with a combination lock, making two-way exchanges easy. Also the site had few cameras, none aimed at entrance to unit 273. Frank also put some information he dug up in with the weapons and other equipment.

Peter decided there wasn’t much to move from the storage unit into the Ford wagon. Bernadette and I can handle it and let Terry rest. He is not back to his fighting level of strength and energy. Those two bullet wounds took a lot out of him. Peter also suspected that Terry was deeply concerned about his tentative handling of the woman who shot him.

The situation in Boston may be very violent. O’Hara, the IRA fund-raiser, will have a couple of hard core shooters handy, and my KGB nemesis Yuri Kolenko, using the name Harris, must be the Russian in touch with O’Hara. I want to have another chance at Yuri.

Bernadette and Peter picked up the supplies and weapons from the storage site and headed back to the hotel. Not only had Frank delivered everything they asked for, he had it all wrapped in various sizes of cardboard boxes. Peter pulled a tarp over the cargo and had no worries about parking the wagon in the hotel parking building.

Back in their suite, Peter studied the file Frank included with the weapons while Bernadette went to check on Terry.

The attached unsigned memo read like it was written with the carefree but intense style of Frank’s boss. He must be one of those people who write like they speak. The memo said the mission in Boston was to find evidence linking the IRA fund-raiser and terrorist to anyone in Congress. The Russian, Harris, was also a high priority. No violence was required but no one would miss O’Hara or any of his people if things got rough. Peter was asked to call in any leads they uncovered to anyone in Congress that was or is in contact with O’Hara in any way. The attached brown envelope contained photos of O’Hara, regular patrons, and O’Keefe’s Pub, where O’Hara had set up his headquarters. Photos of the building were from the street and inside, including shots of both sides of the street for a block. There was also a blueprint of the entire three-story building and a detailed street map of the area around O’Keefe’s. An internal envelope contained two sets of cop credentials that identified the carriers as Federal Investigators.

Just as Peter finished going through file, Bernadette and Terry came in. He handed her the file. She spread it out on the dining table so Terry could see it. A quick examination and she said, “You have some powerful and competent friends. This is an excellent casing file. I couldn’t do any better myself. Will there be any on-the-ground support?”

“No. As far as I know, we are it. They do stress that the mission is collection, but if it turns violent we defend and withdraw. They don’t want any of us to get hurt.”

“Everybody get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow just after a 0800 breakfast, we start off for Boston. We’ll stay in a downtown hotel with good security and look at O’Keefe’s tomorrow night. To get the evidence we need, I see no alternative to breaking into O’Hara’s office very early in the morning. So we’ll be checking out door locks, alarm systems, cameras and guards, including dogs.”

Frank called back right on time. He said, “No information had gone anywhere yet about West Virginia. My boss, whom you met, wants you and anyone with you who understands the IRA to please come to Washington. This is a very serious plot, and we have no one who is as up to date as you and your people.”

“We could save time and fly up but you would have to provide us with equipment, including weapons. Can you do that?”

“Yes. What will you need?”

“Three Browning 9mm with sound suppressors. Each with four magazines. One AR-15 and one sniper rifle, preferably a US M40A1. A couple of car-tracking beacons, five short-range push-to-talk radios. Three protective vests, two large, one medium. A half-dozen concussion grenades. One night vision unit. Two sets of cop flash credentials with a blank place for thumbnail photos. One small motorized 35 mm camera. That’s it.”

“Good list. We can do it. Where do you want it?”

“I’ll tell you later. We’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll check in. In the meantime you have in your legislature a Congressional Committee called the HPSCI that oversees the government’s intelligence activities. You might check the Committee roster for Irish names and any recent, last five years, travel to Ireland. Also anyone supporting Irish causes.”

“Okay. I’ll do that myself.”

“That’s all I have. Goodbye.”