O’Rourke smiled. “You two went to a lot of trouble to plan my death. Your mistake was getting mixed up with Ian. He is a ruthless killer. He has no loyalties. Did you think he was renewing his old friendship? No, he was just using you. And you were going to take the fall. I know why Ian was part of this but what I don’t understand is your involvement.”
McGill said, “A café bombing in Claudy. Both my parents were killed. You planted that bomb. I was only five years old. I had to move in with my aunt and uncle and my cousin Jillian in Londonderry.”
Jake watched Jillian dab away her tears away with her shirt sleeve. She stepped toward Kaplan and reached for his hand.
Kaplan pulled away from her, stepping closer to Jake.
McGill continued, “Then you broke out of the Maze. You stayed in a cellar in Londonderry. That was our house.” He pointed at Jillian and back at himself.
“You beat up my best friend.” McGill gestured toward Ian lying on the floor.
“Then you raped my aunt, Jillian’s mother. Ian saw everything. He watched you raping her and heard her as she pleaded for you to stop.”
Jillian dropped to the floor, sobbing.
Beth started to cry.
McGill kneeled down and put his arm around Jillian. He glared at O’Rourke, “Then Jillian’s father was gunned down on Halloween night in Greysteel as retaliation for a bombing you ordered. All along you were a spy for the British Secret Service.”
O’Rourke lowered the gun to his side, looked over at Sullivan and then glanced down at McGill. “The Troubles claimed the lives of hundreds of Irish men and women. Your parents were only two of them. It was war, survival.”
O’Rourke looked at Ian. “You, I should have remembered you— the hair and the eyes. I never put the pieces together. You were so young and foolish. You had some idealistic image of what could be accomplished. It was rather naive.”
O’Rourke’s eyes moved to Jillian. “Your mother… I remember your mother. I remember her well. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The most beautiful woman I think I have ever seen. I had been in the Maze for a long time, locked up like an animal. I hadn’t seen a woman for months, much less touched one.”
O’Rourke paused. Jake could tell he was studying Jillian. Jillian’s mascara had streaked down her cheeks below her puffy eyes.
“You know, you look like her.” O’Rourke said. “The red hair, soft white skin, tiny freckles, brilliant green eyes — your mother’s eyes. As I recall, you were just a skinny little lass. Now you’ve become a most desirable woman.”
Jillian’s body flushed with rage. Her body trembled. She sat on the floor and glared at Laurence O’Rourke and screamed, “I hope you rot in hell.”
“Shut up.” O’Rourke turned to Sullivan, “Michael — kill them. Start with her.” He pointed to Jillian with his pistol. “Kill them all.” He swept the barrel across the room.
CHAPTER 55
Kaplan watched as Jillian lunged toward O’Rourke, both fists clenched tight.
Before O’Rourke could raise his gun, Michael Sullivan had fired his H&K .45 caliber at Jillian, hitting her chest dead center.
Blood soaked through her blouse. Her body fell backward toward the sofa, crashing onto the coffee table and landing right in front of him.
Her lifeless green eyes still open stared up at him. Blood ran from her chest onto the table, down one of the table legs and onto the polished wood floor.
Kaplan dropped to his knees and grabbed a handful of her hair, “Annie… no… Annie.” He looked at Sullivan. “You bastard, I’ll kill you for this.”
Collins made a hard sweep with his legs, knocking Sullivan’s legs out from under him. Sullivan fell to his left, and the H&K and the Beretta tumbled into the middle of the room. Both guns landed out of reach of Collins or Sullivan — but right in front of McGill, Jake, and Kaplan.
Sullivan retreated on hands and knees behind a large leather chair and crawled toward the table where he had earlier placed the other two Berettas — next to where O’Rourke stood. Sullivan grabbed O’Rourke’s pants leg and motioned for him to get down out of the line of fire. He grabbed one of the Berettas, spun around, then raised himself above the leather chair back.
Kaplan had let go of Annie and dove over the coffee table, grabbing the H&K. He tucked and rolled over to his right. He rolled into a kneeling firing position and fired a shot at Collins.
The bullet from the H&K hit Collins in the left shoulder just above his armpit. Collins clutched his left shoulder as he fell over.
At the same time Kaplan moved, Jake and McGill both dove for the Beretta. Jake beat him to the gun. He raised it and pointed the barrel toward McGill.
“Don’t move, Pat,” he yelled. “This has got to end.” McGill stepped back away from him.
Then Jake heard two quick popping sounds.
He watched as McGill fell back against the front door, blood gurgled from his chest. McGill slid down the door, falling to a sitting position as his legs failed him. A smeared trail of blood followed him down the door. Sunlight beamed through two bullet holes in the front door.
Jake turned around and saw O’Rourke holding his H&K gun pointed at McGill. He fired a shot at O’Rourke. Missed. He hit the leather recliner, pieces of foam and leather flew in the air.
O’Rourke dove behind the chair.
Jake moved closer to McGill.
“Pat, Pat,” he said. Jake checked his neck for a pulse. “Pat, hang on, Pat.” McGill looked at him, then grimaced. His eyes remained open as his head fell to the left.
Collins dove toward the Beretta, grabbed it and rolled away from Jake.
Kaplan was running toward Jake when O’Rourke fired.
The H&K’s bullet missed Kaplan but hit Beth in the side of the neck. The bullet passed through her neck. Blood spurted from her neck as she fell back onto the sofa.
Jake turned toward her and yelled, “Beth!”
He ran to the sofa, where blood was pooling on the leather upholstery and running down the front cushion onto the floor. He grabbed Beth’s neck, holding pressure on it. Blood gushed through his fingers. ”No. Beth, no.” He kept his hands on her neck and pulled her into his chest and sat on the floor.
“Beth …Beth. Hold on, Beth, hold on. I’m so sorry I got you involved in this.”
Sullivan fired three rounds at Collins, as Collins rolled across the floor. Sullivan missed three times. One bullet shattered a lamp, one hit a bookcase and the third bullet shot through a window sending shards of glass over the sidewalk. Pedestrians screamed as they scurried away from the house and the gunfire.
Kaplan rose up from behind the arm of the sofa, steadying the H&K. He aimed the pistol at Sullivan and squeezed the trigger. Sullivan’s head exploded. Brain matter splattered against the far wall.
Jake winced at the sight.
“Michael.” O’Rourke muttered.
Jake saw O’Rourke lean down and grab Sullivan by the shoulder. O’Rourke pulled Sullivan’s body upright and yelled, “Michael, Michael.”
Sullivan had only half his head. An eyeball dangled from its socket.
The odds had swung.
Jake saw O’Rourke stand and flee down the hall toward the rear of the house.
Jake saw Collins make a move toward Kaplan. “Gregg, watch out.”
Kaplan made a leg sweep, knocking Collins down. He kicked the Beretta from Collins’ hands.
Then Collins’ hands were on Kaplan’s gun. He slammed Kaplan’s head against the wall and kneed him in the stomach
Kaplan head-butted the assassin in the left shoulder, right on the bullet wound. Blood from Collins’ wound smeared across Kaplan’s forehead. Jake couldn’t tell whose blood was whose.