Free Allegiance: A Dublin Novella by Heather Domin Page A

mind to him. He always expects the worst – or hopes for it, more like. Come on.”
    William followed them down the quay to a small dock beneath an extinguished street lamp. Two vessels were anchored to the moorings: a smallish skiff, clean but unfancy, with an Irish Tricolour draped from the mast; and a larger, whitewashed cargo ship decorated with several international markings. Both were lit from within.
    From the street behind them came a thin grinding noise growing steadily louder – the sound of an approaching automobile. William turned to see a black Model T lorry pulling up to the dock. It had a large, tarp-covered back and silver-gilt letters painted across the side: Fisher’s Fine Grocery and Baked Goods.
    “There you are, dosser!” Adam called as the lorry’s headlamps went dark. The door opened and Daniel hopped out from the driver’s seat, clad in the same fine gray suit William had last seen him in, his black hair slicked perfectly into place.
    “Didn’t have to get all dolled up for us, now, love,” said David. “Though we’re flattered, to be sure.”
    “I had an engagement, if you must know,” Daniel replied, dusting off his trousers. “You ought to appreciate the sacrifices I make for you all.”
    David shook his head in mock dismay. “Stealing our good Christian women to your heathen charm.”
    “I leave that to young Adam here,” grinned Daniel. “He has enough heathen charm for both of us.”
    Everyone greeted Daniel warmly, and he shook William’s hand with a pleasant smile. “Hello, Mr. Young. Fine evening for a delivery, isn’t it?”
    Despite his tension, William grinned. He liked the Fisher lad very much. “So they tell me.”
    “Alright, alright, you lot,” called a voice. “We haven’t got all night, you know. Stop your jabbering and start your lifting.”
    Andy stood on the gangplank of his ship, frowning sleepily with his arms crossed against his chest and his breath puffing out in the cold. Beside him stood another man, taller, older, with dark hair slicked back from his forehead and a toothy smile that he flashed at each man in turn.
    “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, in a voice thick with an accent William couldn’t quite place.
    “Hans is our contact with the suppliers in Germany,” Adam explained. “Kind of a go-between, like. Hans, this is William. He’ll be helping us out tonight.”
    Hans ducked his head politely, and William gave him a nod.
    “Right, lovely, we’re all friends, isn’t that grand,” grumbled Andy. “Now let’s get this show on the road so that I can get back to my bed.”
    Hans gestured to his cargo hold. “Step into my parlor.”
    “Half into my hold and half onto Fisher’s lorry,” said Andy. “Can you manage that without mussing your fine trousers, Danny?”
    Daniel was rolling up the tarp on the back of the truck. “I’ll remember that the next time you’re asking for a ride home,” he said, and David and Adam chuckled.
    Something clattered in the alley – every man whirled where he stood. Kelly threw open his jacket and pulled out the rifle he’d been fondling, instantly poised and squinting down the barrel. Adam’s smirk vanished; his face went hard, eyes sharp and glittering, and when the noise came a second time he reached into his coat and withdrew a sawed-off shotgun. He cocked the hammer with one thumb – chk-chk . William’s heart began to pound. No one moved or made a sound.
    The clattering came again, and a shadow moved along the mouth of the alley. From out of the blackness rolled a small object – a crumpled tin can. Behind it followed a grubby little boy and a small black terrier.
    William felt the men relax before he heard their exhaled breaths. Six sets of shoulders dropped in relief as the boy continued kicking his tin along the cobblestones, the dog skipping at his heels. He stopped abruptly when he saw the group, and frowned.
    “What you lot doin?”
    “Oi, clear out of here, lad,” said