Too Secret Service: Part One by Declan Finn

Too Secret Service: Part One by Declan Finn

Author:Declan Finn [Finn, Declan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 11

Wayne’s watch read 8:28 as he strolled through St. Stephen’s Green. The bushes were lush, covered with multicolored flowers of preternatural brightness. The flora sprung up from every inch of dirt.

It looks like the same rolling English drunk who made the rolling English road did a little work here for a time, Wayne thought as he walked yet another curve. It would’ve been easier if he had bypassed the park, but Wayne didn’t feel the need to hurry. If Maureen arrived late, Wayne wouldn’t have been missed. If Maureen arrived early…

He reached the end of the park, stepping past the gate onto a street corner. Diagonally across from him was a brick-laid street swarming with people. It was some sort of market, Wayne remembered. Cars weren’t allowed to drive it.

Now, was Trinity straight through the market, or off to the right, where the rest of the street continued? Right. Definitely right. The side entrance was right past a bookstore. Was it a Waterstone’s? Could’ve been; there was one on each side of the street, directly across from each other. The Irish were the only people Wayne knew who could get drunk on words alone. He remembered looking at a wall of Irish-authored titles in the Keohane’s Bookshop a block away. He asked the clerk if every other Irish citizen was an author. Only to have her reply that it was every citizen, but not yet all of them published.

He walked down the street, admiring the mostly-stone work on many of the buildings. All of the store signs were remarkably low key. There weren’t any neon lights, nor flashy logos. They just said what they were and nothing more. Wayne barely even noticed he had walked by a church because it fit so well into the surrounding area. At some points, different shops were part of a string of buildings, and each building just sort of blended with one another.

The street was cut in half by the gate of Trinity College. The campus ran longer than two blocks put together. The black rail-iron fence was embedded in three feet worth of rock, sealing the metal to the concrete. He didn’t cross the street, but he hung a left, heading toward the main gate. Coming from the side was a sure-fire way to spot other IRA men who might remember Wayne and may act…poorly.

He walked into the intersection where three important buildings stood. There was the old English Parliament building, now an Irish bank. It was covered with columns, making it look more like an old Roman palace. On Wayne’s left, as he face the bank, was Peterson of Dublin, tobacconist. It was a pleasant sight after the health freaks in America. On his right, the iron gate of Trinity turned into two massive stone walls, the main entrance arranged as though it were the front to a castle wall.

To Wayne’s utter dismay, no one was waiting for him.



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