October 19, 1977

 

Peter, driving the black Ford pickup, pulled into the parking lot at the beach and parked where he could see the entrance. It was now 8:30 AM. He doubted the IRA advance person would arrive before 9:15 AM. Maybe they would use an advance person to recon and monitor the meeting site. It was also possible this wasn’t a meeting but an opportunity to grab or kill Bernadette. He had convinced Bernadette to keep a small commercial transmitter in her beach bag. If she yelled for help, he would hear her.

The tide was coming in and a storm at sea was causing bigger than normal breakers. Some East Coast surfers were trying without much success to catch a decent wave. Peter walked over to the beach restaurant and got a large takeout coffee. He was certain the coffee would be poor but drinkable, especially as a cover prop. He wandered down to look at the beach and strolled back to the truck. With his Levis and light rain jacket, he fit right in with the growing beach population.

Camera ready, he settled in the truck, sipping coffee and waiting for the main characters to arrive. It was now 9:00 AM. If the IRA was going to cover this meeting, the person or persons should be arriving soon. The lot was now half filled. There were several more pickup trucks. Fortunately, none of them blocked his line of sight lanes.

At 9:30 a motor scooter arrived with two people and parked near the bike rack. They looked out of place. The man was big but not overweight, the woman was wearing a very revealing tiny bikini and was white as snow. She was carrying a beach bag that looked heavy the way she was carrying it. The man reached over and took the bag. It was very obvious they were not at home on the beach.

Peter shot a couple of pictures with his 35mm Minolta with a distance lens. If they weren’t IRA reconning the meeting site, they should be. Perfect casting for comic relief. Thirty minutes in the Florida sun and they would be in misery in a few hours.

Bernadette arrived on schedule at 9:55. She parked Terry’s Toyota and walked down the short stairway to the beach as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She spread her beach towel near the high tide line. In another hour her spot would be covered. From the seat of the truck Peter could see Bernadette with her short robe covering her knife and not much else. The motor scooter couple picked up their towels and moved to within ten yards of Bernadette. The stage is set, Peter thought. Just waiting for the main actors.

Focused now on the entrance, Peter saw an old model VW camper with a passenger and a driver in the front seat. The driver stayed with the VW. The passenger moved directly to the beach. Peter hurried to get the photos he wanted. The VW was parked 20 yards closer to the beach entrance by the restaurant. The driver was watching the main actor as he moved toward the meeting site.

Peter thought, This has all the earmarks of a snatch. His instincts told him this meeting was not going to be nonviolent. He switched plans, got out of the truck, and moved toward the VW. The driver was still watching the meeting site. Peter approached on his blind side, reached through the open driver’s side window with his right arm, hand cupping the chin, and broke the driver’s neck in one quick move.

Climbing inside the camper, he found a Luger fitted with a sound suppressor on the seat next to the dead driver. He put the Luger under his belt and took the driver’s cap and wrap-around sunglasses and pushed the body over the bench seat on to the empty bed of the camper and covered him with a ratty blanket conveniently spread out on the floor. There was no doubt in Peter’s mind that the blanket was meant for Bernadette.

They were going to torture her before telling her what they wanted from her. Both to teach her a lesson and to find out what she had been doing in the last couple of months. If they didn’t like the answer, they would kill her. There will be some torturing here, but not of Bernadette.

Sitting around the pool in the warm Florida sun and drinking Bass Ale, Bernadette told Terry about the note and phone call.

“God damn those people! Can’t they understand you’re done with them?”

“Terry, these people are terrorists. You cannot reason with them. You either cooperate or you get punished. In my case, punishment will be death.”

“Terry, here is the beginning of a plan. Short term we must find these people and get them arrested and jailed or deported. Failing that, we kill them. They will not understand a warning or threats, and Bernadette doesn’t believe they can be bought off.

“Long-term, you two have to disappear. New location and new name.”

“Hell, I don’t like that. I’ve been Terry O’Brien a long time. I’m proud of my name and record. I can’t or won’t give up my veteran rights and pension, and don’t say you will make it up for it isn’t the money. But we don’t have time now for that debate. I’m in for the short-term plan. Lay it out.”

Peter said, “First of all, you must keep out of sight. They will be looking for you. And when real professionals look they want eyes on the target. That’s you. If you’re not under observation, they won’t go through with the meeting. The next meeting site would be Bernadette’s choice and they might send a painful message.

“They will come to the beach in a car or motorcycle. They don’t know me. I’ll set up where I can see the parking lot. I’ll take a few pictures and follow the person or persons that show up to wherever they go. All Bernadette has to do is listen, act normal, and not give them a definite ‘no.’ Leave open another meeting in the same place if possible. If not, pick a shopping mall that has activity during the time of the meeting.

“Bernadette, wear one of your bikinis with a beach wrap to cover your knife. It’s okay to bring your .45 but leave the gun in your beach bag with all the stuff ladies take to the beach. They might try to follow you after the meeting to see what you do. Run some errands, go shopping, go back to Terry’s and take a nap, anything that seems natural. Don’t come to my place until late afternoon. If there’s trouble, call and come immediately.

“My intent is that your IRA friends never figure out what happened or who is to blame. How’s the plan sound to you?”

Terry said, “Plan sounds good and I won’t ask how you got so good at it. You must have been to a good school.”

“I think it just comes natural to him,” Bernadette said, “Like some people can sing or paint or write poetry or shoot. I haven’t had much coaching in knife throwing but I’m pretty good at it. No school teaches knife throwing 101. What school would teach operational planning?”

“I’m glad you like the plan. Now let’s get into the details.”

October 18, 1977

 

Bernadette drove her uncle home the next day and helped him unpack. There was a note in the mailbox for Bernadette O’Brien. She found it and one more when sorting Terry’s mail. There were no stamps on either envelope. She thought, This is not good. Opening the first envelope she read a note of cut and pasted newspaper words.

“This is our second attempt and last nice attempt to get in touch. Call the number below by October 22 or we will call on you.”

There was no doubt in Bernadette’s mind who the note was from. She had been expecting some form of contact. She thought, They must want me to do something either here or in the UK. They won’t ever accept that I want out. I know too much and they know too much about me to let me go. If I do one more job for them, there will be another and another. I might as well face up to the problem now. I’ll have to tell Peter but I must not allow the danger to spread to Jack. Terry is still too weak to be of much help. He doesn’t need any more bullet holes. There are just too many of them willing to die for the cause. For the time being, I’ll handle this myself. First I need to set up a meeting place they don’t control.

Bernadette called the number in the note and when someone answered she said, “I’ll meet you tomorrow on the city beach at 10 AM. If I don’t know you by sight, you’ll need to convince me you’re in some leadership position.”

“Good to hear you again. Tomorrow is good at ten on the Fernandina City Beach. I’ll be wearing a blue windbreaker. I think you already know me but no names. Come alone. I don’t want to see your uncle. Cheerio.”

Bernadette left a note for Terry and, with a plan forming in her head, drove the few miles to the Brandon house carefully checking for a tail as she approached the gated community. She loved the setting of the Brandon house on a spur of land jutting out through the marshland into the Amelia River and the Inland Waterway. The view was spectacular.

As soon as she stopped the truck, Rip and Jack came charging up, competing for attention. She dropped to one knee and hugged them both. It was hard to tell which one was wriggling the most. Maybe the one that was licking her face. Peter came out a few minutes later carrying two cold bottles of Bass Ale. He said, “I didn’t expect you back quite so soon.”

“I didn’t expect to be. I got a note in the mail we need to talk about.” Bernadette reached in her shoulder bag and handed the note to Peter. When he finished reading the note, she told him about the phone call and meeting arrangements.

“Before we talk about this problem, I want you to know I’m aware of bringing more danger to you and Jack. I was very careful to check for anyone following me on my way here.”

Peter said, “I wasn’t thinking about that. I am wondering if we can get rid of these people.”

“There are too many of them and they don’t care who they kill. Terry’s in danger, and he’s not well enough yet.”

“What do you think they want?”

“Something illegal, very illegal. Like killing someone or casing targets. They will never let me alone. All I want is to be able to live a normal life with you and Jack.”

“We both have enemies with resources and motivation.”

“Right now I can’t think long-term. What can I do tomorrow? My plan begins with following my contact after the meeting back to wherever they are hiding. If I find them, I’ll kill the lot of them, and Terry and I will disappear.”

“First, I’m part of this plan. Meet them and find out what they want. I’ll be there to back you up and follow them after the meeting with you. It’s possible we can get the lot of them arrested. In any event we have to make plans to move you and Terry.”

For the next two hours Bernadette and Peter worked out a plan for the meeting tomorrow. Bernadette left in the pickup to bring Terry back to the Brandon house. She only told Terry Peter needed him. Once again Bernadette checked for any tails.

“What’s up? Why are you checking traffic so closely?”

“Something’s come up with the IRA. Once we get to Peter’s house, you’ll get the full story.”

October 15, 1977

 

Three weeks later, Terry was looking much better. His appetite was back and he was sleeping well. His wounds were healed and the pain was nearly gone. He was even running a bit.

Peter had finished the hidden room in the mine tunnel, and to his satisfaction, the cabin was now complete and could stand empty during the Pennsylvania winter.

Bernadette and Peter had put themselves through a grinding physical fitness program. Peter was now in the best shape he had ever been. He and Bernadette often went on 15-mile runs through the surrounding mountains. They practiced frequently with an assortment of handguns. Peter liked the Browning 9mm because of the 13-round magazine. Bernadette stuck to the .45 U.S. Army 1911A Colt because it fit her hand better even though its magazine held half that of the Browning.

She made great progress in Hapkido. Peter told her that she was good and she had incorporated her knowledge of Aikido into her own fighting technique.

At dinner Peter asked, “Is everyone ready to go back to Florida?”

There were all yes votes. Jack wanted to go swimming again. Mrs. Nguyen said, “Yes, it’s getting cold here.” Peter said, “Okay that’s it. Tomorrow we go.”

“Good,” Terry said. “Let’s get out of here before it snows. I thought it was going to snow this morning.”

The Brandon caravan was on the road by eight o’clock the next morning. Peter, Bernadette, and Jack rode in the Ford truck and Terry took up the back seat of the Cadillac. One overnight stop in South Carolina and they arrived in Amelia Island in time for an early afternoon swim. Peter felt the tension leaving his body. He felt safer at this house than anywhere he had lived. Terry soaked up some Florida rays and let Jack see his Purple Heart scars.

Nine days after returning to the cabin, Peter was told that he could come and pick Terry up. Terry could continue his recuperation at home. Peter and Bernadette drove the Cadillac to Leesburg, Virginia. The pickup place was a popular restaurant in the historical district.

They found Terry having coffee and a piece of pumpkin pie while reading the local paper. Bernadette slid in beside him and hugged him. Terry said, “No too hard, you Amazon. Your uncle still has some sore spots.”

“Oh Terry, I’m sorry. I was so worried about you.”

Peter sat on the other side of the booth and reached across to shake his hand. “You know your uncle, he just likes sympathy.”

“Where were you treated?” Bernadette asked.

“The truth is I don’t know. I had great care, the doctor and staff were very good, even kind. But no one would tell me where I was and I still don’t know.”

“Couldn’t you look out the car window?”

“No, my Irish Princess. They used the old black hood technique. It was taken off right out there when they pulled into the curb. They made sure I could make it to the door and said goodbye after putting this thick file under my arm. They said this is for the battlefield surgeon that saved my life and you would tell me about my treatment and be in charge of my recovery. If any problems come up, you can call them.”

“Did they give you any prescriptions?”

“Yeah, there’s a bag of pills and stuff in the folder.”

“Aside from all the medical stuff,” Peter asked, “how do you feel?”

“I’m tired and get tired very easily. Pain is not bad. I’ve a lot of work to do to get back. A week or so at the cabin will help. Thinking about that place kept me going.”

It was dark when Peter parked the Cadillac at the cabin and helped Terry into the master bedroom. Peter and Bernadette moved back into their tent camping site. Jack was back on the couch with Rip. The next morning Bernadette took Terry for a walk. A couple of hundred yards from the cabin and Terry said, “How about I sit down for a while?”

“Good sign. You’re in touch with your body. I was afraid you would play macho male and overdo this rehab thing. You cannot hurry or force your recovery. It will be six months to a year before you feel you’re back.”

Late afternoon, September 16, 1977

 

Peter let Bernadette sleep. By the time he pulled the Ford pickup into the small circle of gravel that passed for a parking area at the cabin, he was done. Before he and Bernadette could get out, Rip had his muddy front paws on the door window and Jack was running as hard as he could up the slope from the creek bed. Mr. and Mrs. Nguyen joined the welcoming group. Bernadette was touched. She nudged Peter and said, “Your warrior house staff know we’ve been in battle. They know the after-battle look. I’m wiped out. Help me up the steps.”

Mrs. Nguyen ran up to help Peter get an exhausted Bernadette in the cabin and started running a bath. Mr. Nguyen opened the locked chest in the truck bed and took out the weapons. He shook his head and mumbled to himself about the condition of the weapons. He carried them up on the porch and got his cleaning kit and started on the weapons. Peter saw him, after he left Bernadette half asleep in the tub, and said, “Thank you, I didn’t have time to clean them. Too much fighting. We’ve not gotten any sleep for two and half days.”

Mr. Nguyen frowned and said, “Can’t fight with dirty weapons. Not work for you when dirty.”

Peter smiled. “You are right. You’ve been in more fights than I have. I accept your advice.”

********

Everyone, including Jack, worked hard at getting the cabin ready to stand unoccupied during the winter. Peter concentrated on finishing the room built into the mineshaft.

He had time to work with Rip who was very smart and almost as stubborn. Rip was beginning to assert himself as the alpha male in the cabin. After several “talks” Rip understood he had to wait awhile before becoming head of the cabin pack. Bernadette watched this process with great amusement. Here was the most competent, fearless man she had ever seen competing with a dog barely out of puppyhood, even if a very big, strong one.

She was amazed once when out for a walk with Jack and Rip, Jack ran back to the cabin to get a sweater and she told Rip to stay with her. Seeing he might not listen, she took a firm grip on his collar and found herself being dragged on her stomach down the trail. After letting Rip go, she understood Peter had some strong competition. She learned never to get between Rip and his duty to watch over Jack.

By the time Peter and Bernadette finished their breakfast and were back on the road, Terry was in the operating room of a small but first-class trauma facility. Frank went up to see the Director of Operations to brief him. Just as he finished briefing the Director of Operations, the phone buzzed. The Director frowned and picked up the secure phone. He told Frank to pick up the extension. Fifteen minutes later the report from the Recon team in the valley of the terrorists’ ended. The Director shook his head and said, “I knew this guy was good, but I was thinking your report was embellished a bit. Now from what was reported by the Recon team, it was understated.

“This strange man is the best operative I have ever heard about. The Recon team leader thinks for security reasons I’m not telling him what unit hit the valley. It was a major bomb factory run by the Soviets deep in the West Virginia mountains. Their bomb plot against the Old Executive Office Building might have worked.

“The Recon team spotted a small camp from a helicopter search, probably where our guy staged from. With a badly wounded man, he couldn’t go back and clean it up. We need to get it cleaned up before the cops or FBI people find it.

“The Recon leader said they monitored the local police network for their own protection and heard about a carjacking very near the first hard surfaced road near the entrance to the old fire or logging track into the valley. Both the driver and a woman passenger were killed. One shot to the head. That must have been the Russian. Use your contacts to raise the priority of the search. Bring the FBI in. Tell them we don’t know what happened in the valley. We were just checking out a low-level lead from Moscow that there was a training camp for spies and terrorists in the area. No mention of our guy and his team. Our Recon team was in fact a search team attracted by the smoke.

“Frank, handling this asset is a full-time job. I want him protected at all costs. Mostly from our process people. No written reports of any kind. Clear all your instructions to him with me and no one else. Also, no effort to find or identify him without my express personal order. If he wants us, he will find us. He will notice any attempt of ours to find him. His reaction would probably be to kill you and maybe me and disappear. When we need him, we run the ad he gave us in the Wall Street Journal one week every month until he contacts you.

“Remember, this guy is not a defector. He wants nothing from us. He is an all-pro from our toughest opponent who shares our interests. Doesn’t happen very often. Until now I would have said never.”

September 16, 1977

 

After Terry was picked up and taken to a trauma treatment facility, Peter and Bernadette stopped for breakfast. “I’m almost too tired to eat,” Bernadette said. “I badly need a bath and a good 10-hour sleep. But I’d sooner drive back to the cabin. If you can drive long enough for me to get a two-hour nap, I’ll take over and let you sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ve pushed our bodies hard. I don’t have much more. Adrenalin can only last so long. We’re almost past that. With a huge coffee to sip on, I can drive for a couple of hours. How good is it to get a decent breakfast? People in West Virginia know how to serve up a great one.”

“Give me a chance to go to the ladies room and I’m ready to go. Hope Terry is okay.”

“He’s in good hands. I trust these people to take good care of him.”

“By the way, although I asked no questions, I’m very impressed how a pay phone call delivered a medically equipped helicopter with first class medical people on board. Obviously there is a dark government hand in this somewhere.”

“Knowing when not to ask questions is just one of the things I love about you. During my short call I gave a quick summary of the valley action. I was asked how many people were in our team. I said three, two men and one woman, but only two of us were in the attack force. The other man was on watch and in a standby mode. There was astonished silence on the other end of the line. They will have a recon team there in a few hours.”

“You know we are good, but we can’t keep up action at that level. I may have to go back to Ireland and the IRA.”

“Listen to me, woman warrior, you are done with the IRA! Stick around. I guarantee the level of violence of the last two months will stop. But we will always be in a defensive watchful mode.”

“Good. I’ll join you in the truck in five minutes.”

Peter walked over to the parked RV. “Bernadette, drive to this address, it’s a General Hospital with a helio pad. There will be a chopper there in about 45 minutes. It will take Terry to an excellent trauma facility. No questions asked. We can’t go with him or visit, but we can get telephone updates on his progress and as soon as he is fit to travel, we will pick him up. We can’t visit because I don’t want our names known.

“Is Terry awake?”

“Yes. He has a slight fever but is lucid. I’m a bit worried by the looks of an infection around the groin wound.”

“You can brief the medic on the helicopter when they pick him up. I’ll park near the entrance and be watching. Leave the RV and walk out to the street. I’ll be there. It’s probably useless but wipe off your and my prints as much as possible. I don’t think there is anything we missed transferring to the truck when we picked it up. Right?”

“I’ll look around. But believe we are good to go. See you at the hospital. Where are we going from there?”

“Back to the cabin and Jack. We’ll hold there until Terry is with us and recovered most of his strength. Okay, I need to talk to Terry.”

Peter climbed in the RV and knelt beside Terry. He looked pale but was sipping water from a canteen. He looked at Peter and said, “Some walk in the mountains. How did we do?”

“We’re the only ones left standing. The Soviet got away but bleeding a bit. He’s got a long hike ahead of him. How you feeling?”

“Not worth a damn. What’s going down?”

“My friends will be picking you up in a helicopter in about 30 minutes. And you can ride inside, not strapped on an outside stretcher. You don’t need to answer any questions from anyone about who you are or what happened, except for medical questions. Bernadette will brief the medic on the treatment you’ve had. We can talk to you on the phone when we call. You can’t call us or anyone else. You’re going to a first-class facility with high security standards. When you’re fit to go, we’ll pick you up. Relax and don’t fight the process. It will be okay. Anyway, the top guys think you’re a hero, and I couldn’t change their minds. Never mind any questions. We have to go now. See you soon.”

Before dawn, September 16, 1977

 

Peter signaled Bernadette to drive up into the small pass. He jumped in when she stopped. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Good to see you again.”

“It seemed you were gone for hours.”

“I found signs of his being there. Bloody bandage made from a torn shirt, candy bar wrappers, and cigarette butts. Higher up in the rocks when I chanced using my flashlight, I found a few spots of fresh blood. He’s not hurt badly. I think he saw the RV stop and go lights out. He had no good option. Stay and fight an unknown number of opponents or move on, probably down the road we’re on. He will hear us coming and hide until we pass. I’ll bet he is only 40 or 50 feet off the right side of the road in the tree line.

“When we get in the Charlestown outskirts, find a pay phone. I need to make a call about medical care for Terry.”

The narrow rutted-road dead-ended on County Route 20. Peter said, “Turn left, it is only a short distance to our truck. Less than ten minutes out of our way.”

Peter found the pickup just as they left it. He told Bernadette to follow him. Thirty minutes later he was talking to Frank Batcher from a pay phone.

“Frank, I know this is an open line. If I’m giving you too much detail, tell me. I need some emergency help. The terrorist camp is destroyed. Everyone there is dead except for a Soviet KGB Officer, Yuri Kolenko. He was in charge and escaped. The terrorists were planning on driving an RV packed with explosives near the Old Executive Office Building. Where and what that is I don’t know. There was a large 50- by 70-foot concrete block building that was the bomb-making plant. It was destroyed.

“One of my people was hit hard. He’s had good battlefield care but is still critical. I don’t want to take him to a local hospital with two bullet wounds. The police will tie him to the shootout at the terrorist camp. Not a good thing. Can you help?”

“Yes. Take him to General Hospital in Charleston. It’s on the 800 block of Riverside. Park next to the helio pad. One will be there in an hour. Pilot’s name is Bill Wilson. Your friend will be taken to one of our care facilities. No questions and no costs. When he’s able to travel, he can leave. I assume you will make arrangements to have him picked up. He will have to sign a no-talk about agreement. It’s no big deal. I don’t think his kind would talk too much anyway.”

“My other friend will be with him in a brown RV that belongs to the terrorist camp. There were five RVs in all. The Soviet was in a Ford pickup. All those vehicles are still in the valley. There is some blood on the passenger seat where the Soviet was sitting. Later I found a bloody bandage when I trailed him. I had to break off to get my friend to a hospital.”

“Leave the RV. We’ll take care of it.”

“The cab inside is covered with our prints and a lot of the AR-15 brass at the camp site will have our fingerprints.”

“No problem. I’ll take care of the forensics and thank you for such an outstanding mission. We’ll have a recon team in the valley in two hours. Call me any time for an update on your friend. By the way, how many people in the attack team?”

“Me, my friend, and a woman.”

“What! You did all the damage with three people?”

“Yes. It wasn’t that hard. We only committed two members. I kept one in reserve. He was shot by a random security patrol. Take good care of the patient. I’ll be in touch.”