Chapter 8: Brighton to London 1984 and Back to Belfast in 1995

Danny was not at all happy to be in London and he knew he was only there to pay back some old debts to his early handlers in Belfast. At least the ones that were still alive.

He had been immersed in struggles of a different sort in parts of the world that made Belfast look like the lap of luxury.

Even in the early days, the signs of the Troubles were slow to explode like one of those hand-made pipe bombs that often didn't work when they were supposed to. He had spent some time giving classes to young lads to explain the basic principles but in all honesty not too many of them had that natural ability that makes a good bomb-maker. He considered it to be a cultural thing because of the volatility of the Irish personality.

The Polish agent Katya was the closest thing he had to a true professional and he had to admit she had the right mix of experience and training to take his place if anything happened to him. The others were simply "stringers" stuck together for the duration of the operation and in no way resembled what one could call a team. The underlying consideration was the fact that the ongoing operation was under competing leadership and both he and his people had to be sharp enough to avoid not only the constituted personnel of the long-range planned operation but the elements of the Whitehall security team as well. He had good cover being dormant for so long but some of the stringers might be weak points because their faces were recently involved in other flash points and less important projects. He made certain that there was a certain separation between himself and Katya and the others because they could lose the fill-in members but not the major players.

His estimate was that his work was about seventy percent completed when the word came down that the hotel security teams were alerted to the danger and that they were shuffling the party members around to provide more insulation against a debacle.

He gave the word to Katya who wired the escape motorcar of the Belfast team working with Patrick and they both headed to the coast ferry to get out of way of the net that would be sure to surround the entire area immediately after the blast which they had not been able to resolve completely.

Katya was depressed with her own personal thoughts.

The young lads made their own way back to Belfast with orders to lay low for the duration whilst things blew over. Unfortunately, even though the primary purpose of the operation was a failure, the very fact that it took place at all caused unintended consequences for the PIRA in Belfast that lasted right up until the peace arrangement in the mid-nineties and in fact right up to present day.

Danny was tempted to get closer to Katya but he knew that would probably be a bad move and his best recourse would be to separate from her as soon as possible and hope that she would move on to some other dangerous situation forgetting him entirely.

It was a close call but his brain won out and they parted ways on the other side of the Channel and he discovered years later that she ran afoul of the French police for another matter entirely and is still incarcerated in France.

He went underground as a tourist moving from place to place with his camera and pretended boozing blending in without suspicion from any direction.

His move back into London was brilliant because it meant he was right back in the midst of the very people who were searching for him at the far corners of the world. He worked diligently on perfecting his London accent to fill his role as a disabled construction worker with no ties to Ireland at all. He drank the local beer which he found to be far too weak for his liking but definitely better than the American piss that seemed to be so popular these days.

Just to fit in better, he groomed a shy girl of plain looks to be his constant companion. Her name was Laura and she was a bit of a romantic but one of those aimless young people that hadn't discovered who she really was as yet. Their coupling was a bit stilted because she was in truth a bit of a cold fish but he did his best to please her because she was giving him a valuable service in acting as cover for his new-found role. Once she asked him point-blank if he knew any position other than the boring old "missionary" and he almost fell out of the bed laughing. Thinking back on it now, he realized she was just being honest and letting him know she had seen through his pretense of caring or having any feelings at all except for the one ultimate instinct of wanting to survive.

They managed to stay together at least until he was able to find and alternate hiding hole in Scotland. He fit in well in Scotland doing his best to acquire a Scottish manner of speech that at least gave him an opportunity to talk his way out of the old "you're not from around here" swing to the conversation that often led to suspicions and even accusations that he would prefer to avoid.

The cold war was coming to a swift conclusion when he got a ride on a military plane to the United States and a job working in an Irish bar in Boston. He felt like he was in his own country amongst the blue collar Irish laborers and they accepted him at face value because he knew all the right things to say and the right songs to sing when the time was appropriate.