Page 47 of Dublin's Danger Dancer

“As long as the cargo comes into the Docklands. We don’t care about the risks, we can manage the risk on our side.” Liam says.

“May I remind you, the last haul we tried to get across for you was intercepted,” the admiral says.

Freddie grabs the admiral by his shirt. “We lost fifty million. Maybe I should remind you of my bad habit of holding grudges.”

“Let him go,” says Liam exasperated.

“Do you know how deep the strait of Gibraltar is?”

“No,” says Freddie. “And I don’t know how deep this sea is, but I’ll know you’re drowning in it if I tie enough bricks to you.”

“Freddie…” cautions Liam.

“My point is, intercepting the drones we were piloting is like finding, how do you say, a needle in a haystack?”

“What are you saying?” asks Liam.

“I’m saying what you’re both thinking, you’ve got a leak inside your organisation.”

“Impossible,” says Liam.

Freddy looks down and kicks his shoes.

“Not this again, Freddy. She’s not garda.”

“How long have you been seeing this woman?”

“Not long, but she’s a stripper. I’ve known her for over two years. It would be an extremely long con.”

“What changed?”

“She did, I guess. I liked her from the moment I first saw her. But she never reciprocated.”

“Until now?”

“I told you,” says Freddie, “suspicious timing.

“But fucking a stripper,” says the admiral. “That must be very nice.”

“I pay you to talk about transporting my product. Not who I fuck.”

“Ok” says the Admiral. I look up to see him tapping his gold ring on the white bar of the ship. “We’ve got more creative. Your next shipment is coming in under the engines of washing machines.”

“It’s a good idea. No one in Ireland is going to want to take those things apart.”

“And the port authorities are not going to want to risk having to pay the shipper because they can’t put them back together,” chines in Freddie.

“Why don’t we go have a drink?” says the admiral. “Now we’ve concluded our business.”

I scamper up the steps, tiptoeing along the wooden planks back to the cabin room. I fling myself on to the bed as if I’ve been asleep the whole time and push some saliva out of my mouth to make myself less attractive to Liam.

I hear the door handle opening but the smell of Liam doesn’t follow. I feel a hot, heavy hand on the back of my head before I know what’s happening, the same hand is pushing my head into the pillow. I gesticulate, kicking my legs. The hands pull back.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” says Freddie, laughing. “Liam wants you to join him. We’re having some drinks.”

“What feckin’ way is that to invite me Freddie?”

“I’m sorry, it was just a prank.”

---