Setting up a Meeting.

The White hand incident as many referred to it as, a small bar fight, had reached even Cathal’s ears while he was away. When he got back in town he dismissed it simply as something that would be taken care of. So he went about his way and ordered a new helicopter. Something nice an H-92. It was on its way less than an hour after he wired the money. He was sitting back in his chair happy that things had gone pretty well these past few weeks. That’s when there was a call. He looked at the caller ID to see it was a private line the Mob used. He answered it and only got one line of information, “Shaun O’Doole. White Hand. Boston Capo. Bye bye.” with that the line went dead. Cathal sat back in his chair wondering what had happened that night to piss the mob off. But that did not really matter to Cathal. He had a job to do. His first call was to the bounty hunter who worked for him. Cathal wanted to know as much about this fuck as possible, and yesterday. An hour later Cathal had enough info on the guy to call him up at his home and set up a meeting.

Shaun: “Who the hell is this?”

Cathal: “Calm down Mr. O’Doole, this is Cathal Maguire, I represent an organization that your organization had an altercation with a few nights ago. On behalf of my organization I have been authorized to negotiate with you. I am not a fool Mr. O’Doole. I know with certainty that you are able to negotiate as well.”

Shaun: “Ok. So what do you propose? Mr. Maguire was it?”

Cathal: “That is correct. And I do not feel that it is appropriate to discuss such matters over the phone.”

Shaun: “Aye. What do you suggest then?”

Cathal: “There is an airstrip that is on neutral grounds. I suggest that we go there to discuss these matters.”

Shaun: “I don’t like that idea. Why not meet at my pub?”

Cathal: “Your pub is not neutral territory. This airstrip is. Since neither of us has any investment in the place we can remain honest.”

Shaun: “Ok. I agree.”

Cathal: “Good. The terms of the meeting are simple. One bodyguard. No weapons. I will pick you up.”

Shaun: “Now wait a fucking minute. How can you expect me to agree to that?”

Cathal: “Simple. It’s the only way for you to avoid a war. Since we are going through an airport we can both be assured that no weapons make it to the meeting. Is that satisfactory?”

Shaun: “Yeah ok that makes sense. I’ll be at the Lucky Leprechaun at nine. Why the sudden change of position?.”

Cathal: “The men who I represent can sometimes be hot-headed if you will and are quite irrational at times. But I am taking it upon myself to come to an agreement that everyone will be happy with.” Cathal bit hit tongue knowing that Quinn and Angus were nothing of the sort.

Shaun laughingly: “I understand. Just don’t be late.”

Cathal: “Aye.” and with that Cathal hung up and the trap was set.

Cathal knew for a fact that the Lucky Leprechaun was the hangout for O’Doole’s crew. And apparently it was his own private business. Cathal received a sinister idea. Why not kill them all. Why not take the fucking place over and give the boys a new place to drink. Cathal picked up the phone and called some of his boys from Ireland and told them to meet in the conference room in an hour. Cathal spent this hour looking over the newly arrived H-92. It was quite a nice piece of machinery. But Cathal’s watch told him that there was more to do before the day was even started.

Calling in the Troops

In the large conference room in the airport Cathal’s men had assembled. Of the thirteen Irish men and women he had helped into the country only eleven were present. The other two were out at jobs that they held, Megan was a teacher which made all of them snicker about her, for she was an accomplished ex-IRA member. And Ryan was busy building bombs as usual. He too was a teacher but at a local university, a good place to recruit new chemist and an infinite source of bomb materials. Present were Kieran, Owen, Dagda, Gabriel, Ian, Rachel, Jacob, Walter, William, Gavin, and Duncan. Cathal’s idea had been simple. Split them into two teams an accomplish the objectives at the same time. Cathal laid out the situation to them knowing full well that they were all trustworthy. Each one soon started thinking about what they could do best and formulate little parts of their own plans is their minds.

Kieran: “I’ll drive you out to this feck.”

Owen: “Hell I know this airport probably the best so I am here for this fun.”

Dagda: “Cathal I love you like a brother but I don’t thing I can do what you intend to do here. But I will go after these fucks at the pub.”

Gabriel: “Cath let me torch those fecks.”

Ian jokingly: “Carpenter I have to go make sure Dagda’s sorry ass comes back.”

Rachel: “Hun your going to need skill of hand here so I am staying.”

Jacob: “I ain’t one for torture. So I’ll help take out the pub.”

Walter: “Little brother and I will help take out the pub”

Gavin: “How many times have I told you not to fucking call me that?” the common playful fight broke out but Cathal quickly reminded them that the mission was right now.

William: “I’m with you.”

Duncan: “Can’t let my brother have all the fun, Cathal you know I am here.”

With the two teams set up Cathal began to give them orders. The second team would strike the pub fifteen minutes after Cathal and Kieran picked up Shaun and his bodyguard. They would enter the pub shoot it up then drop a half pound of Semtex with a magnesium-thermite detonator. That should level the place and kill anyone the bullets didn’t. The others would stay at the airport and wait for Cathal to arrive with their ‘guest’. Kieran, Cathal, Shaun and his guy would all go through the metal detectors and then walk to a hanger. There they would spring on them and hold them up. Crude but effective. Odds are that they would have to kill the bodyguard right away. But Cathal wanted Shaun alive for a few hours. The six Irishmen were going to have some fun with the fuck before he perished. Cathal made one more quick call to his police chief to make sure that no cops were in the area that night. After ten minutes he was convinced that his own little police force would not interfere with them at all.

Staging

Cathal’s team would mostly be at the airport in the hanger waiting for him to arrive. Rachel went to the hospital and collected dress gowns and gloves and masks to keep blood off of the participants. The others spent the time sharpening knives and sleeping. The second team had the most work to do. They had to check all of the guns that they would be using. And prepare the bomb that they would use to level the pub. Ryan had given them some magnesium torches with which to lite the thermite detonators on the semtex. Cathal’s private stash of thermite was raided to make a detonator. And several strips of magnesium were taken as a fuse. With all the bomb components in hand and weapons cleared the second team got an hour of rack time before awaking at eight o’clock.

Dagda, Gabriel, Gavin, Jacob, Ian, and Walter all loaded up into van that was rented just for this occasion. It’s dull red color did not make it stand out as they left the airport and drove down the city streets. It was half past eight when they parked in a small alley a block away from the dank pub. Dagda checked the bomb to make sure all the parts were correctly together which they were, Gavin kept watch outside the van for anyone that might try and make them. Ian was going over the plan in his mind, as were the others. At exactly two till nine two men walked outside the pub. And one minute later Cathal pulled up in his black suburban. The two men got inside and the suburban drove off in the direction of the airfield.

The Pickup

Kieran and Cathal decided that leaving early would be good. So it was about a quarter to nine when the duo left the airfield. The black suburban was formerly a vehicle of some gangsters and had many hidden compartments. One in particular Cathal loved, it held a small armory in it. All around the rest of the truck there were smaller compartments, which Cathal assumed were for drugs. And under the seats which he knew were for guns. Cathal sat in the back as the person he was portraying to be would. It was ten till nine when they pulled into the proper section of Boston. Cathal knew many of the streets and where they were going was a place he had been to once before. He felt assured that his gun hidden under the seat would give him a slight advantage in the kidnaping. Stopping at the designated place one minute early, Cathal saw two men that were waiting outside the pub. Cathal knew the shorter man to be Shaun, the other Cathal assumed was his bodyguard. They got in right away, the bodyguard in the front and Shaun in the back. Cathal looked the men over a second. The bodyguard was tall, six foot three with red hair and a muscular build. A shame he would die. Shaun was average size nothing special about his size or build. He looked to be six foot flat and no more than one hundred eighty pounds. There was no small talk as the truck made its way back to the airfield.

The Nights First Victim

Kieran made good time driving from the city back to the airfield. It was almost twenty minutes later that they were sitting in front of a gate waiting to be let into the airfield parking lots. Once on the lot they got out and made for the terminal for the metal detectors. Cathal made sure to grab his .38 from under the truck seat. Shaun went through the detector first. Keiran second. Nothing no beeps or lights. Shaun’s bodyguard made his way to go through second, but before he could Cathal drew the .38 and placed its cool barrel at the back of his head. The man froze having that half second to reflect on his life as Cathal pulled the hammer back and squeezed the trigger. The bullet pierced the back of the mans skull and ran its course through his brain matter liquefying the brain. It exited the cranium through the forehead in a brilliant spray of grey matter and blood. Shaun stood there horrified at the betrayal and the sudden brutal killing of his guard. His body covered in blood and skull fragments. Kieran had some blood on him but he was mostly shielded by Shaun’s body. At this point Owen came around a corner and tossed Kieran a small club with which he bashed Shaun’s head. Sending the poor confused man into a painful darkness. Cathal looked around, thanking the others for making the place look like it was being painted. The plastic on the floor made the clean up much more easy.

Cathal: “Take that cunt to the hanger and have him strung up. And clean up this mess while I get some tools.” The present went to work. Kieran took the limp body of Shaun to the nearest hanger, and Owen and William quickly wrapped up the corpse, that Shaun had brought with him, in the plastic that was covering the floor.

Owen: “Damn what a mess.”

William: “No shit. Cathal did a job on this one for sure. What do we do with the body now?”

Owen: “We’ll cart it out to the chopper and leave it waiting for the other one to soon follow.”

The pair went about the work with no particular hurry. The body wasn’t going anywhere. But they also wanted to participate in the events so they were sure to get done with the chore in a timely manor.

Bombing the Pub

Dagda had been waiting for the call to come in. He hated waiting. And did not like the idea of carrying around explosives. Jacob’s cell phone rang, he picked it up and the look of acknowledgment came over his face he said ‘ok’ then hung up.

Dagda: “What’s up Jacob?”

Jacob: “It’s a go.”

The others were relieved, and made a show of it as they gathered the weapons. The six of them made their ways slowly across the street to the pub. Gabriel was the first to enter. His duster shielded onlookers from the MP5 he had at his side. He stopped a few steps in the door waiting for the others. As soon as Gavin, the last in line, made his way into the pub they all brushed the dusters aside and drew the MP5s they had brought. There were some gasps and a couple of the Irish mobsters made for the bar, but the sextet opened fire. Two of the mobsters that made way for the bar were cut down one at the knees the other had gapping holes in his chest from multiple gunshots. The patrons of the pub were sprayed down, more badly injured than dead. When Ian saw no possible threats alive or moving he slung his weapon and took out the bomb. He placed it on the bar and took out the torch. He struck the end with a special striker and the torch came to life spewing forth its violent magenta flames. Ian touched the flames to the thermite detonator. It melted and came to life burning its way down to the semtex. The small crew ran out of the bar watching their backs as they went. At one of the last seconds Walter saw someone slowly moving for the bomb. He turned around and sprayed the man down filling him with many pieces of lead. The van came around and he jumped in. They crew was now safe from that part. Jacob was not worried about the cops so he sped his way through the city knowing the bomb would do its job and do it well.

Not more than eight minutes later the detonator had done its job and the semtex went off. The rapid expansion of gasses and heat from the explosion cause all in its wake to be destroyed. The very foundation of the building shook as the force tore down the structure and laid waste to its interior. What wasn’t destroyed in the blast and reduced to fragments was consumed in the fire of the bar’s stock. The entire building collapsed and was nothing more than splinters. Several adjacent buildings suffered damages as well but were not part of the crater that made up the once pub.

The Interrogation, Torture, Skinning, and Murder of Shaun O’Doole

Shaun O’Doole awoke confused and with a splitting headache. He could tell that he was alive. But in his stupor he didn’t know where he was or what was going on. The bright lights made it hard to see. His hands were above his head and when he tried to move them he found that he was bound. His feet dangled off the ground and a gentle night breeze told him his shirt was missing. His eyes could now focus and he looked about finding six people starting at him each in their own sick twisted way. Enjoying his misfortune. And then the memory hit him. That man, standing there, he killed John. Who was he? God that Lynch bastard. Maguire. That cunt wanted peace.

Shaun: “You fucking cunt. You went back on your word. What is the meaning of this?”

Cathal cooly looked at the helpless man and with a sadistic smile his answer came in a flat human less voice. “Of course I went back on my work.” a small laugh issued forth, “Peace. I want peace as do my employers. This is the road to peace Mr. O’Doole. And I want to learn some things. Had it been any other Lynch member you would be dead with your compatriot already. But I like to learn.”

Shaun: “I won’t tell you any fucking thing you sick bastard.”

Cathal: “I was hoping that you would say that.”

Duncan walked over to the man and using a club swung on the man’s right leg. The kneecap was broken almost instantly into a thousand smaller pieces. Shaun let out a cry of pain and swung on the chains that bonded him.

Cathal: “Ok now that you know I am serious. I want to know who you work for.”

Shaun: “And if I tell you?”

Cathal: “You might get out of this deal with less pain.”

Shaun hung there thinking for several moments. His options were not great. He could die painfully or die betraying someone who would not have held his tongue to protect him. For a brief second he had the thought of turning against his employer and joining forces with his captor, surely that would be a way to live longer to exact his brother’s revenge. While his thoughts ran their course Maguire’s crew looked at him knowing that his mind would reach the choice that they knew he would pick. Cathal did not want the man to entertain any ideas of escape so he simply nodded to Duncan, whom proceeded to punch the side of Shaun’s busted right knee. With shooting pain in his body Shaun swung to the side his thoughts ended and he decided to remain silent.

Cathal: “Well I guess that’s our answer. Shower em.”

Owen and Keiran used fire fighting hoses to soak down the dangling O’Doole. The purpose was to soften the skin. After a thorough soaking, Rachel stood up garbed in a sterile gown and wearing gloves and a face mask.

Rachel: “Relax Mr. O’Doole. It only hurts the first time.” Her cynical smile was nearly masked by the white patch of cloth that shielded her face. “A little practice Mr. O’Doole?” Rachel grabbed a flat blade off of a small roll away cart that was decorated in many different cutting instruments. As she walked over to Shaun the others now donned similar clothing to join in the nights game. Rachel stopped at Shaun’s now dripping wet torso. She took the flat blade and slowly made a cut along his stomach, the thin red line slowly began to bleed. Shaun writhed a bit but accepted his all too real reality. Rachel moved for another cut causing a right angle to form on the man. Again he moved but there was nothing he could do, his screams were growing hoarse. Rachel took her time and slowly peeled the skin from the flesh. She smiled because she now knew it was possible.

Cathal: “Now for the real fun Shaun O’Doole. Who do you work for?”

Rachel pulled on the flap of bleeding skin, Shaun twisted at the horror he was living. So soon he had broke.

Shaun: “Christiano Vinciguerra. It’s Christiano Vinciguerra.”
Cathal smiled, because the question was trivial, he really didn’t care just wanted to know if this would work the next time. All six Irishmen descended upon his dangling body and removed large pieces of skin from his body. At the end of several hours work Shaun was passed out from pain and many pieces of skin were laid out in buckets for storage. Rachel’s skill with several of the blades ensured that the entire back piece was intact as one gruesome square. Cathal finished the poor man off with some pity. He woke him and showed him the gun as Cathal pulled the trigger slowly sending a .45 round deep into his now blown apart skull.

Clean Up

The demolition crew was back at day break. They wanted to have drink which was acceptable. Cathal’s group had two nicely wrapped bodies now in the back of the new chopper. After the initial pre-flight checks the small piloting crew was off the ground and headed out to sea. On the way out Cathal called the police chief again to tell him what kind of explosive his men would find blew the bar up. When satisfied he relaxed knowing full well that these two bodies were about to go out to sea.

The plastic wrapped bodies were weighted down and it didn’t take long for the chopper to get out over international waters. The back hatch was opened up and the bodies dumped, sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor, out of sight and out of mind. Cathal and his boys celebrated with a hearty drink back at the airfield. It was a job well done.