Jake stood up. “Yeah, he did.” He looked at the specialist and said, “Can you show me that on the map?”
Bentley interrupted, “Jake, does that mean something to you?”
“It might, it just might.”
Fontaine pointed to the area on the map. Jake leaned over and studied the map.
“This is it, Admiral.” Jake looked up at Bentley. “This is where we need to go. Like Gregg mentioned, O’Rourke said something to Collins right before the shooting started. Something about the location of the Ridge of Two Demons. Collins wanted to know where it was and once he found out, he was going to kill O’Rourke. This is where we need to go — the answer is here and that is where we will eventually find O’Rourke.”
Isabella Hunt interrupted. “How can you be sure? It sounds to me like you’re just playing a hunch. If you’re wrong, we end up at the wrong place, wasting time while O’Rourke gets away.”
She turned to Bentley. “Director, we can’t just gamble on a hunch. We need to go to Belfast and wait. We’re positive he’ll show up there. When O’Rourke shows up, we grab him.”
Bentley took off his reading glasses and placed them on top of his head. “Jake, I need you to be sure about this before we make a move.”
“Admiral, can Gregg and I speak to you alone?” Jake asked.
Hunt banged her fist on the table. “Director, with all due respect—”
Bentley raised his hand, then excused everyone from the briefing except for Jake and Kaplan. Hunt, lips tightened into a hard line, stood and walked stiffly out of the room.
“She’ll get over it, she always does. She’s very dedicated and probably feels a little uncertain about you two, maybe threatened a bit by my prior association with Jake,” said Bentley. “She’s one of my best, though.”
“Way to go, Jake,” Kaplan said. “A pissed-off woman with a gun. I don’t like our chances.”
Bentley walked around the table, put his glasses back on and looked down at the map laid out across the table.
“Can you be sure, Jake? Can you be sure O’Rourke will return here?”
“If you give me a couple of hours on the mainframe, I think I can prove it.”
“Okay, Jake. You’ve got two hours.”
CHAPTER 61
Jake returned to Bentley’s office exactly ninety minutes later with several printed documents stuffed inside five folders, one each for Bentley, Fontaine, Kaplan, Hunt and himself. If Bentley and Fontaine accepted the information Jake had gathered, Kaplan and Hunt would be briefed.
He laid the folders across the big desk and Bentley and Fontaine opened theirs and studied the documents.
Bentley removed his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Jake, are you sure about this? Al Qaeda, Nasiri? Can you fathom the implications here?”
“Yes, sir, unfortunately, I’m very aware of all the implications. But I’m also quite certain.”
“How certain?” Bentley asked.
“Admiral, I’ll bet my life on this one.”
“Odd choice of words, Jake — you may very well be doing just that.”
“He’s right, sir,” Fontaine said. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, and Dromahair is the perfect location.”
“Well,” Bentley said, “I see you haven’t lost your touch for thoroughness. I always trusted your instincts before. All right, let’s do it.”
Bentley leaned over, pushed the intercom button and summoned Jean McCullough into his office to give Jake an update on Beth. She had been tasked to make periodic calls to the Candler Hospital in Savannah and receive updates on Beth’s condition.
“Jean, I’m sure Jake would like to know how Beth is doing. Do you have any news?”
“Actually, sir,” she replied, “I have Mr. McAllister on the line right now. Shall I forward the call in here?”
Bentley saw Jake’s eyes light up and said, “Yes, Jean, please do and send Mr. Kaplan and Ms. Hunt in here too.”
Jake spent the next five minutes on the phone with Mike McAllister getting caught up to speed on Beth and bringing McAllister up to date on those things he was allowed to discuss. The others waited patiently as Jake concluded his call.
Jake looked at Kaplan and saw the hint of a smile on his face. Suddenly Jake was glad Kaplan would be with him in Ireland.
As Jake placed the receiver down, Bentley asked, “Well, how’s she doing?”
“She seems to be stabilizing, which is good. Her father said she had some ups and downs and she’s still unconscious but her vitals are improving.”
“Jake, Gregg, I need to make sure you two fully understand your place in this operation,” said Bentley. “You are back-up and support for Isabella. You are also there for positive identification of O’Rourke and Collins, if he should show up. This is Isabella’s operation and you will take orders from her. Is that understood?”
Hunt glanced up from the folder and smirked, which didn’t go unnoticed by the others in the room.
“Yes sir, Admiral. I understand perfectly,” Jake replied. “I have no problem with that. I’m just glad I get to be there when O’Rourke goes down.”
Kaplan said firmly, “No problem, sir.”
Bentley tapped his finger on the table and leaned toward them. “Just remember, this is ‘capture alive’ for both O’Rourke and Collins. Keep your heads about you at all times. I don’t like making phone calls with sad news to relatives. I did enough of that in the Navy. It’s no easier now that it was then.”
He looked at Jake. “And I don’t want to have to call JP. This isn’t anything like what you did when you worked for me. This is frontline stuff. It can be a deadly game and you’re going after two very dangerous killers.”
“Yes sir, Admiral. I’ll keep my head low.”
“One more thing and this is of the utmost importance. The IRA ceasefire and peace in Northern Ireland are very important to the President. He wants the sanctity of the New Northern Ireland Assembly protected at all costs.”
Bentley closed the folders in front of him.
“We can’t afford a public display. This is to be covert and quiet. Get in, confirm what you say is correct and then get out. Report in ASAP. I’ll have our janitors sanitize the place before O’Rourke even shows up.”
Jake nodded. “Yes sir. Discretion is the word.”
Bentley stood up and shook hands with Jake and Kaplan. “Isabella is a very competent operative, you can trust her with your life.”
“Yes sir,” Jake and Kaplan replied in unison.
Bentley held the door open as the three walked out of his office. “Good luck.”
Once they were through the door, Fontaine closed it and turned to Bentley, “Do you think they can pull this off?”
“I sure as hell hope so — or this will be the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever stepped into.”
CHAPTER 62
At the late hour, the Stormont Parliament Building was usually empty except for the cleaning crews, but on this night there were occupants in the office of the Secretary of State of Northern Ireland.
“How long before O’Rourke surfaces?” the Secretary asked.
The Commander stood at his usual place by the window looking down at the two rows of street lights leading up to the Stormont Parliament Building. The night air was clear and cold. An occasional automobile headlight shone in the distance to the south passing by the guarded entrance at Upper Newtownards Road, one mile down Prince of Wales Avenue. The ancient walls of Stormont Castle were lit up by several massive floodlights dominating the view to the southeast of the Parliament Building.
In 1858 local architect Thomas Turner was commissioned by the Cleland family to revise and remodel a plain existing dwelling into a castle. This flamboyant castle later served as the Belfast headquarters of the Secretary of State of Northern Ireland. The Stormont Estate also housed the Stormont Parliament Building, opened in 1932 by Edward, Prince of Wales. The original architectural plans were to resemble the United States Capitol in Washington. Those plans were scrapped after the 1929 stock market crash and a smaller dome-less version was erected.