The Purple Contract by Robin Flett

Author:Robin Flett
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Vesquoy Publishing
Published: 2012-08-22T23:00:00+00:00

11

14 – 20 July, 2013

The white Renault van bumped uncomfortably along the uneven road between the hedgerows, the driver cursing while he avoided the worst of the potholes. The two younger men beside him on the bench seat each held an automatic pistol in his lap, their eyes moving back and forth across the passing countryside. Outside, the drizzle had passed leaving patches of blue sky amid the almost featureless gray. There was no talk, only the occasional muttering of the driver and the snorting of the engine marked their passing. Ahead, the first glimpse of sea appeared between the trees.

By the time the road had petered out into a dirt track the trees had given way to low scrub which itself thinned out and merged with the short beach of coarse sand and shell. It was more than a little breezy here on the south-east corner of Ireland between Wexford and Waterford. This low-lying arable landscape contained little to slow the westerly wind. Today it was coming overland straight in from the Atlantic on the edge of yet another weather front, powered by the swirling area of low pressure tracking almost due north up the Irish coast.

'Where in hell are they?' The driver hastily closed his door again to keep out the over-abundance of fresh air. Instead, he sighted through the windows in the rear doors of the van, carefully reversing the vehicle as far towards the sea as he could safely go. No point in making extra work for themselves.

Twenty minutes later the driver got out to take a leak. When he had finished he stood in the lee of the van, looking out to sea for a time. One of these days he was leaving the tension and danger of Belfast's housing estates and the sectarian pressure everyone still lived under. Politics might change––always would change, but not people. Somewhere like this would suit him fine. Not a soul for miles: just the job.

'They'll be here, don't you worry yourself, Brian.' The younger man grinned at him as he climbed back into the van. 'You gave them the directions yourself, did you not?'

'Aye, that's right'.

'Well then. If they keep us waiting much longer we can always give them sore heads to show our displeasure!'

Fucking kids. All they could think of; kicking the shit out of some poor bugger just to show what hard men they were. Both of these pratts had their fingerprints and faces on record for petty larceny and violence. Still in their twenties and they were known. Marked men. They weren't going to last a year in the Movement and everybody knew it except themselves. The best either of them could hope for was a prison sentence. More than likely they would catch a bullet. Just cannon fodder really, and it served them right. He pulled a newspaper from the door pocket alongside him, opening it over the steering wheel.

The other two looked at each other, disconcerted. Shouldn't they be mounting a guard or

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