Undercover by Gerard Brennan Read Free Book Online

F-word."
    "I'm a bit young to get my fingers broke by that shower of cunts as well. Didn't make much difference, though, did it?"
    The boy had a point. And the fact that he referred to the rest of the crew as "that shower" implied that he didn't count Cormac among their number. Small comfort though it was, Cormac entertained hopes that he could form some sort of alliance with Mattie.
    "Cormac, isn't it?"
    "Aye."
    "Thanks for standing up for me."
    Cormac laid his head back against the wall. "For all the good it did either of us."
    "Still..."
    Something clicked in Cormac's mind. He sat up straight and looked from left to right. "Did they leave us here on our own?"
    Mattie nodded. "I heard some of them go out a good while ago. They left the bastard with the big muscles to watch us but he's been downstairs for a while now."
    Cormac's eyes went to the door.
    "It's locked," Mattie said.
    The door was a whitewood panel effort and would have been no bother to get through, locked or not. But Big Frank would be up the stairs at the sound of the first kick and Cormac was in no shape to deal with him.
    "How long was I out?" Cormac asked.
    Mattie shrugged then winced as it reminded him of one of his injuries. "I don't have a watch."
    Cormac looked to the window. An orange streetlight glow crept under the curtains. Hours had passed but it could have been anywhere between ten o'clock at night and three in the morning.
    "No sign of your da?"
    "I heard him shouting a while ago but I don't think anybody was hurting him or anything. I didn't want to shout back in case we got in more trouble."
    Cormac cocked his head to listen for life beyond the bedroom. Deathly silence. He figured it'd be safe to move about without attracting immediate attention. Safe but not easy. The full extent of his injuries began to make itself known with every slight movement he made. His lungs couldn't hold a deep breath without complaint from his ribcage. The muscles in his legs were cramped up and his lower back ached. He longed to empty his bladder but suspected his piss would be tinged crimson with blood. Nausea tightened his stomach. He battled against his gag reflex and stood.
    "You look like my granny trying to get off a beanbag."
    Cormac grunted. "Funny little fu-fellah, aren't you?"
    "Fu-fellah?"
    "Shut up."
    "You can curse in front of me. I won't tell, like."
    Cormac moved to the window and whipped back the curtain. A couple of hooks pinged loose but it held on to the rail. The PVC window had a little lock on the catch. Cormac tried to turn the handle but it held firm. He pushed the bottom corner of the frame and it gave way slightly under the pressure. One good shove would probably pop it.
    "What's the point in that?" Mattie said. "We're upstairs."
    "You're a very negative person. I'm just weighing up the options. Have you a better idea in mind, like?"
    "We could take the legs off that chair and brain the next bastard that comes in here."
    "Chair legs against guns...? Yeah, I can see how that trumps the window."
    "They're going to kill us anyway. May as well go down swinging."
    "Nobody's going to get killed."
    "Wise up. Maybe there's a chance that I'll get out of this, but you're definitely fucked."
    Cormac didn't know whether to hug or strangle him.

Chapter 5
    ––––––––
    T hey'll name an airport after me some day.
    Rory Cullen, CULLEN: The Autobiography
    ––––––––
    T he hired Merc swept into the M3 fast lane. A long distance lorry flashed its lights in protest as it was forced to shift down a gear. Just a couple of yards later, the driver slotted the Merc back into the inside lane, this time upsetting a Fon-A-Cab driver who laid on his horn for a good five seconds. The sideward momentum from the lane-hopping rocked Lydia and Rory in the back seat. Lydia welcomed the distraction but Rory looked a little green around the gills as he clenched the door handle for support and assurance. She thought about asking the driver to slow