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a word with Brendan for her, but she refused. Said this was just a glitch and she could handle him. Besides, she couldn’t leave him. She was a good Catholic girl, after all.

She asked him to take her home and when they pulled over just outside the estate where she lived, he handed her his fake business card and told her to call him anytime. He would be there for her.

About two weeks later she called him and said it would be nice to have that coffee and chat but away from the prying eyes of where she lived.

With cover and backup from a surveillance team, he met her in a café in Banbridge, a town about fifteen miles north of Newry. Expecting her to be battered and bruised. He was shocked at the venom in her voice when he joined up with her.

‘Joseph, they want to kill you. I know you aren’t who you told me you are, you’re at the top of their hit list. Their units are hunting for information on you and they will kill you.’

She’d explained that her exposure to the PIRA had turned her romantic ideas about it all to nothing. She was crushed and utterly disgusted with the likes of Sean Costello. Only a few days earlier he’d been bragging about shooting dead a retired security services officer in the street in front of his wife. And another in his home. Both hits had been aided by information she’d personally passed to Costello. But only one of them was ordered from above, so Sean was on risky ground. When she then found out Brendan was the getaway driver, she was physically sick. She’d prayed that the police would lift her so she could unburden herself, but they didn’t.

Her last task had been to take pictures of officers O’Hagan wanted rid of to the local PIRA meeting. She’d nearly thrown up again when she saw his face in one of the images and realised he was Special Branch.

Reece had no choice but to tell her the truth and ask her to join him as one of his undercover agents. She was so sickened by recent events that she immediately agreed, waving off his attempts to tell her what risks were involved. She was already at risk and she knew that passing what information she could to Reece was far better for her soul than not doing it.

She took many risks, saving many lives over the years and as a result of the information she provided, they had recovered weapons and explosives and arrested many dangerous people.

She’d played a vital role in the Peace Process and she was one of the best agent’s he’d ever know.

SG9, Present

‘Is Democracy a code-word? Why did she use it?’ asked Fraser.

‘We give it to our agents only to be used in the case of information indicating an imminent attack on the British mainland or against a head of state which means anyone from the Prime Minister or a visiting Head of State to the Queen and senior members of the Royal Family, hence the “the ravens are in danger” call,’ Wilson replied.

‘Why is she asking for you, Reece? You left Special Branch a few years ago. Does she not have another agent handler now?’ Jim asked.

‘At the time, she was placing herself in such danger that when she said she would only ever work with me, everyone agreed. It would be like shooting the goose that laid the golden egg if we didn’t and she refused to help us – the importance of the information she was feeding us far outweighed the office politics. It was authorised that only after my death would she use a different handler. She knows I’ve been out for years so whatever she has to say now, after years of silence, it’s important.’

‘You’ll have to meet up with her tomorrow,’ said Sir Ian.

‘Yes, it’s a popular little restaurant near Grosvenor Square. I’ll find out what it’s all about. I’ll report back here at six tomorrow evening?’

‘Agreed,’ said Sir Ian, before Wilson explained that he was needed back in Northern Ireland but asked to be kept in the loop. It would also be easier for him to learn anything new about Costello that came in if he was in Belfast.

Jim looked at Reece. ‘David, I’ll have a team for tomorrow.’

‘I trust everyone here,’ he interrupted, ‘but I think until we know more, we keep this between ourselves. I’ll wear a wire so you can listen in and record everything. Then if you need to act immediately, you can.’

‘OK,’ said Sir Ian. ‘Let’s go with David’s plan and Jim can keep us all updated. I don’t fancy having this bugger Costello bumping off the Queen or one of the Royal Family on my watch. He needs to be stopped and that’s on you and your team, Jim, do not let me down.’

 

 

TUESDAY, 24 SEPTEMBER 2019

 

 

Chapter Seven

Sean Costello watched the crew on the Irish Ferry from the passenger deck as they prepared to bring the ship into the dock at the Holyhead Ferry Port at the tip of Anglesey in Wales. The two-and-a-half-hour morning crossing from Dublin had been bouncy thanks to the strong winds. He’d travelled this route many times and he couldn’t remember ever having a smooth crossing. It was as if the gales had made it so rough for a reason: to keep the Irish and British mainland apart.

Unfortunately, the rough sea swell had never been rough enough and he’d spent his adult life fighting to force the British out of his country by other means and see the United Ireland he craved become a reality.

He’d opposed the so-called Peace Process that Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness had signed up for and regarded them both as traitors. They had betrayed the Cause and Costello knew

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