Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) by Matt Lincoln (motivational novels TXT) 📗

so,” I said as I lifted up the bag. “Anyway, just let me put this away, and I’ll get ready to go.”

I walked past him and into my room and then set the bag down carefully on the floor at the foot of the bed. The music box was made of carved wood and had a little figurine inside that would pop out and spin when it was opened. It looked delicate, and I didn’t want it to break accidentally.

I walked into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face before looking at myself in the mirror. The thin, white scar running from just beneath my eye down to my chin had long since stopped hurting. It was barely visible anymore, but it served as a stark reminder of how dangerous this job could be. I hadn’t even been doing anything dangerous when I’d gotten the injury that left it, either. It just went to show that I could never let my guard down on this job.

I double-checked to make sure my gun, handcuffs, and spare ammo were all in place before heading back out of my room.

Junior was still in the hallway, smiling at something on his phone.

“Oh, ready to go?” he asked as I stepped out of my room.

“Yeah, let’s head out.” I nodded as I led the way toward the stairs.

We didn’t know exactly when Finnian Gallagher would be at the docks to receive the shipment, but the parade would be starting in just about an hour as soon as the sun began to go down, so we needed to be ready to move.

As we stepped out of the hotel, I noticed that it wasn’t quite as overcast as it had been for the past few days. The sky was still gray, which was typical for Ireland, but a few beams of sunlight were breaking through the clouds and casting a warm glow over the buildings.

The street was more packed with people wearing costumes, most likely gathering in preparation for the parade. I noticed that most of the children were gone, though. Seamus had said that the partying tended to involve a lot of drinking and mayhem, so that much made sense.

By now, the way from our hotel down to the Garda station was familiar, and we were able to make it there without getting lost, even among the dense crowd.

“Hello, agents.” He beamed as he caught sight of us. He was standing by the reception desk speaking to the female officer seated there, but he straightened up as I approached him.

“Hello, Seamus,” I greeted. He was wearing a bright orange jack-o’-lantern badge over the chest pocket of his uniform. It looked comically out of place on his tall and hulking form.

He led us through the large Garda station, further than we’d been before. We went through several winding hallways until finally, we made it to a small conference room. Three other men were already waiting inside. He closed the door before turning to speak with us.

“Alright then, men,” he began. “First off, let’s get the introductions out of the way. Agents, these are Garda Roberts, O’Haines, and Shelley. Boys, this is Agent Hills and Agent Chapman.”

“Pleased to meet you.” One of the officers nodded politely at us. He had shortly cropped blond hair and a long hooked nose.

“Right then,” Seamus nodded. “Here’s our plan of attack. We’re going to head on over to the docks now, with just a few officers, so it’s easier to remain concealed. The three of us will stay right on the edge of the water so we’ll have a clear view of any boats that come in. We’ll also station a few men around the perimeter in case anyone tries to give us the slip. Finally, once we have eyes on the target, we’ll give the alert, and an officer stationed outside the docks will move in to block the entrance to the port so that no one will be able to drive through. We don’t have any men to spare, so we need to make sure we don’t mess anything up.”

“Can we really pull this off with so few people?” Junior asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “The three of us plus a few more officers seems like pretty bad odds against whoever’s going to be out there.”

Seamus looked around shiftily before leaning closer and lowering his voice.

“I can’t risk involving anyone else,” he admitted quietly. “Truth be told, hardly anyone knows about this operation, save for my direct superior and the small group of people we felt it was safe enough to tell. I didn’t want to believe what Patrick Gallagher said about having friends within the Garda, but unfortunately, it looks like he was telling the truth. There are a few things I’ve noticed that I don’t have time to get to now. Suffice it to say that I don’t know who we can trust, so we’ll have to make do with this much.”

“Okay.” I nodded seriously. This would make pulling off the mission significantly harder, but Seamus was right that we didn’t really have a choice.

“Good,” Seamus replied. “The parade will be starting soon, so we should head to the port now.”

We left the small conference room and followed Seamus back through the station and out into the parking lot.

I couldn’t help but surreptitiously glance at every officer we passed. Any one of them could be in league with whoever we were after, and at least one of them undoubtedly was. It was nerve-racking being surrounded by potential undercover enemies, and I didn’t relax until I was seated in the passenger seat of the car.

The Port of Dublin was only a ten-minute drive away from the Pearse Street Garda Station, though the trip felt much longer with how anxious I was. I was relieved when the boats docked on the water finally came into view.

The port was a long, wide area of land pressed up against the sea. I could see both small