Free Chaos Theory by Graham Masterton Page B

pour more gasoline on to the fire.’
    Denis O’Connell lifted his glass and swirled his wine around. ‘I’m not a man of violence, Adeola. But sometimes in this cockeyed world of ours, things can only be changed by standing up to those who oppress us.’
    ‘DOVE is prepared to make you a deal, Denis.’
    ‘A deal, is it? What manner of deal? Will they pay for the Israelis to pull out of Gaza, or the Yanks to pull out of Iraq? Will they give cash to the British government to surrender at last the occupied territories of Northern Ireland?’
    ‘No. But we will pay you twice what the Jihadis are paying you, and we will guarantee that Doody and O’Donovan are immune from prosecution. Just order them home, and nothing will be said.’
    ‘And what makes you think that I have the influence to do such a thing, even if I wanted to?’
    ‘If you haven’t, why did you agree to come here and talk to me?’
    Denis O’Connell sipped his wine and patted his lips with a clean white handkerchief. ‘You know that I can never resist a beautiful woman, Adeola.’
    ‘Then don’t resist me now. Bring Doody and O’Donovan back from Paraguay, and help to make the world a safer place.’
    ‘My God, Adeola. I wish I had your idealism.’
     
    They parted on the understanding that Denis O’Connell would talk to his friends in Dublin, and get back to Adeola when she returned to New York.
    ‘I’m hopeful that we may be able to do some business,’ he told her.
    ‘Well, you know what George Herbert said: “He that lives in hope danceth without music.”’
    ‘And you know what W.B. Yeats said: “How can we know the dancer from the dance?”’
    He kissed her on both cheeks, and then he winked at her. As he stepped out of the front entrance of the hotel, Rick came up beside Adeola and asked, ‘Think you made any progress?’
    ‘I’m not too sure. He’s about the least trustworthy man I ever met.’
    Rick checked his wristwatch. ‘We’d better think about hitting the bricks. We have to be at the airport by three.’
    ‘Sure. Did you bring my bags down?’
    ‘They’re all in the Range Rover.’
    Charles appeared, holding up a large golf umbrella. ‘It’s just started to rain again. Are you ready?’
    Adeola took his arm and together they hurried across the hotel driveway, with Rick following close behind. The rain was drifting in from the west, across the Kenmare estuary, a silvery-grey expanse of water with misty grey mountains on its southern side.
    As she climbed into the shiny black Range Rover, Adeola turned and took a last look at the hotel. It was a huge Victorian building, in the Gothic style, with a tower, and had once been a favourite holiday haunt of George Bernard Shaw. For the first time in a long time, she wished that she could stay a few more days, and stop worrying about terrorism and petty wars and insurrection. The rain smelled so refreshing, and the estuary was so silent. There were chairs arranged on the patio overlooking the water, but all of them were empty.
    Jimmy and Miko came out of the hotel and looked up at the rain. Their grey rented Mercedes was parked a hundred yards away, under the trees.
    ‘We’ll catch up with you, OK?’
    Nesta was the last to get into the Range Rover, shaking her head. ‘I just washed my hair this morning, and now look at it!’
    She turned to smile at Adeola, but as she did so the window next to her exploded and the left side of her head blew open, so that blood and brains were sprayed all over the luggage stowed in the back.
    Rick shouted, ‘ Down! ’ and Charles slammed his foot on the gas. The Range Rover’s tyres slithered on the wet asphalt, and it catapulted forward into the empty chairs, scattering them in all directions.
    There was a loud slamming noise, and then another, and another, as three high-powered bullets hit the Range Rover’s doors. Charles twisted around in his seat, engaged reverse gear, and hit the gas pedal again. The Range Rover sped