Never Ending Justice

By John Noonan

Sergeant Brown stirs up a hornets nest when he makes public information that shows the unsavory connections between drug dealing, business, and politics. The Garda is getting too hot for him, so he contemplates retirement. He and his wife go to Spain to check out an apartment. Macker is already there. On the face of it settled down with a legitimate job and girlfriend, he is making a name for himself as a ruthless assassin for the ex-pat Irish and Russian mobs. He hates Brown and knows hes in town. Whos next for rough justice?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496976260

John Noonan

John Noonan has been writing about movies and TV for several years. Starting off with his personal ramblings about the state of British advertising in the UK with his puntastic defunct blog, ‘Ad’s All Folks’, John went on to setup the film blog Early Bird Film Society. Since moving to Melbourne over five years ago, John has written for websites and publications, such as FilmInk, Horrornews.net and Monster Pictures.

Book preview

Chapter 1

T erry Murphy and his friend Micka were sitting in their local, a small Irish bar on the seafront in sunny Alicante on the eastern coast of Spain. Terry was lifting a cold glass of beer to his lips when a news report on the television, carried by the Irish station R.T.É, caught his eye. He could see the body of a man, covered by a plastic sheet, lying in the gutter of an alleyway. Terry asked the barman to turn up the volume and he pointed out the scene to Micka. They listened as the newsreader outlined that a man had been shot dead in Dublin and was known to the Gardaí as a major drugs dealer and that this was the third such killing in as many weeks. When the dead man’s name was given out, the pint of beer dropped from Terry’s hand and smashed on the tiled floor. Micka looked at him,

Are you alright?

Fuck me, Micka. That’s Thommo lying there, Terry replied.

There’ll be trouble over that, Micka remarked as he turned away from the television.

Get in touch with home and find out the details for the funeral. We’ll have to attend.

OK, leave it to me. Although I don’t see why we should bother. He’s dead and it’s got nothing to do with us.

Ah, but it has, Terry thought to himself.

Terry and Micka arrived back to Dublin for the funeral to say goodbye to their client. Terry had invested Thommo’s money for a number of years very wisely in various property deals. He learned to never ask questions about the money but he knew it was not legally earned. Terry was aware of the rumours that Thommo was one of Dublin’s Fair City’s main drug dealers. He wasn’t surprised to hear his client had met his demise in an alley with a bullet in his brain.

It had been a while since he had been back to Dublin and he was troubled by the sights that greeted him. He felt angry and slightly sorry that he had come back at all. The changes to the city were startling, The areas he had grown up in and where he had made a name for himself as leader of a feared armed robbery crew had changed. Now young kids were sitting at street corners smoking drugs and alleyways that he used to run down as a kid were being openly used by today’s kids to inject Heroin, No, this was not Terry’s city anymore and the sooner this funeral was over, the quicker he could get the fuck out of this shithole. Truly for the first time he was forced to confront himself with where his clients’ money had come from. But one thought occupied his mind. Thommo would not be able to enjoy the substantial return on his money; it just meant a bigger slice of the cake for Terry. This pleased him.

The funeral brought a large crowd of the old and new of the city’s criminal fraternity. Most were seemingly more interested in meeting up and trying to impress with tales of their wealth, but one young fella caught Terry’s eye. Badly dressed and with bruising to his face, this young man walked through the crowds to find one person, Thommo’s right hand man, Nicky Place. After a short whispered conversation Nicky nodded his head and shook the young fella’s hand. Other young bucks acknowledged him and as he moved off through the crowd, he came in Terry’s direction. They exchanged a brief hello. There was something about that fella, Terry thought, as he watched him walk away. He felt sure that they would meet again.

Chapter 2

S itting in Dublin airport’s departure lounge, Terry and his companion, Micka, chatted over a coffee, discussing the funeral. They noticed the young fella from the funeral appearing in the departures’ lounge. Terry thought he seemed to be in a dazed.

Aye, aye, look what the cat dragged in, Micka said.

Jesus, ten years ago that was us. Terry replied.

This was always something of a touchy subject with both lads. They had both left the city in a hurry after their involvement in one of the biggest armed robberies in the country’s history. A daring heist which resulted in two of their gang being shot dead by the Garda’s newly formed Armed Response Unit. Terry knew then that the days when they could pull up at a bank, storm in and frighten the living shite out of the staff were long gone. No, Terry knew that change was on the way. It was a perfect time for him and Micka to get out, head for Spain and establish a new life. Since then they had done very well for themselves. They invested their money in property at a time when it was extremely cheap. They bought pubs and developed a whole range of Irish neighbourhoods where the growing number of people with a few bob could come and buy or rent villas, apartments, whatever they needed. Terry and Micka were there to accommodate them. With the contacts they had back in the city with the gangs and individuals who were turning over large sums of money through their various illegal activities, they had become a trusted outlet for laundering money.

Terry watched the young fella as he bought a burger and coke at the fast food outlet, and sat at the next table.

How’s it going? he asked.

The young fella looked up and recognised the tanned man from Thommo’s funeral.

I see the bruises around your eyes are clearing up, remarked Terry

Ah, yeah, they’re just a bit tender at the minute. Said Macker.

Are ye going far?

I’m off to Spain, a place called Alicante. My sister’s living over there, and she said she can get me a job.

Just then, a newsflash appeared on the big TV screen showing what appeared to be a mass killing in a warehouse in the Dublin docks area.

Terry knew that the young fella had spun them a yarn about a sister living over there and that in reality he probably had nowhere to go when he landed. He also knew from his reaction to the newsflash that he had been involved somehow in what had happened. He would have to find out what the story was. He made a mental note to phone up his old buddy Gilroy, AKA Molloy, who had been a great source of money when they were developing their many properties, Meanwhile, he told Micka that they would keep an eye on the young fella when they landed. If his feeling was right, they would offer to take him with them and keep him close until they had all the information on what exactly had gone on in the warehouse.

On hearing the call for their plane Terry and Micka made their way through the security check. Terry noticed that the young fella was reluctant to part with a holdall which he kept firmly under his arm and got a bit agitated when the security searcher told him to pass it through the scanning machine. He looked around and Terry caught his eye. He gave him a nod and could see him easing up in himself. When they got through the search area Terry walked over to where the young fella was tying up the laces in his new runners which, because they had thick soles on them, had to be put through the scanner as well.

Everything alright? asked Terry.

Yeah, everything’s great, no problems, replied Macker

I see you got some new gear. Looks a million times better. I never did get your name.

"It’s Sean McCummins, but everyone calls me Macker, and thanks for the help.

Listen, there’s a bit of time before the plane gets called and meself and Micka here are goin’ for a coffee if you’d like to come along with us.

That would be great. I was just wondering what I’d do while waiting.

He never drank coffee but if that was what it took to fit in like everyone else, he’d have it. At the table Terry said,

Do you mind if I ask you a question?

Macker looked at him, wondering what was coming, but he knew nobody else around here and this travelling business was brand new to him.

Go ahead.

Have you really somewhere to head for when you get off the plane? It’s just that Micka and me were in the same position some ten years ago, only we could bounce off each other. Otherwise we’d have been fucked, Terry said, and if I’m right and you are on your own, why not stick with us for a few days until you find your feet? Think about it on the plane and we’ll see you when we get off. Time to go now. Hope to see you later.

Terry and Micka got up from the table and walked off. Macker kept his eyes on them to see exactly where they were heading for. He got up and left the coffee on the table. It was horrible stuff, he thought to himself, and couldn’t see how anyone could drink it. He thought of the offer as he made his way to the plane. He knew nobody where he was going and nothing about the place. He boarded the plane and the air hostess showed him to his seat. He got a bit annoyed when she told him that the holdall would have to go into the overhead locker, but as he noticed everyone else doing the same he followed suit. His new life was in that bag and he was suspicious of everyone. As the plane took off into the sky, Macker was amazed at the sight of the city below. He could make out the inner city where his family came from and he wondered what his cousins were up to at that moment and what would they think if they knew what he had been involved in. He could make out some landmarks of the vast housing estate he had grown up in like the big shopping centre. His mind turned to Renée and the baby. She hadn’t been too bad to be with. Maybe he would contact her when he got settled and see if they could take up again.

As he floated away over the clouds, he went back over the events of the last couple of days in his mind and Gilroy’s face came up straight away. How was he going to come up with a story on running out on him? The television news report said that a couple of people had been shot dead in the warehouse. That would be Billy O’Neill, he thought, and the other would probably be the one in black who made him bring them to the warehouse. But who was that being taken away in the ambulance? As the events rolled through his head, he drifted off into a sleep only to be awakened, slightly startled, by the air hostess enquiring if he wanted to buy anything to eat or drink. Macker looked at his new watch and saw that he had slept for over an hour and that the plane had just over another hour to go. He had a look around the plane. At the back, a crowd of fellas, who looked liked they’d had a few pints, were slagging a fella, whose stag party it was, about what they were going to do to him. Most of the other passengers were couples about the same age as his Ma and Da but a lot better off. At the front of the plane he caught sight of Terry and his mate. He wondered about those two. They had to be main players and he reckoned that he would be better off tagging along with them, till he got the lay of the land and what was happening back home. He knew that the money he had would not last too long if he could not turn it into anything, so as he saw it, those two were his only chance to get settled in and get involved in something. As he looked out of the plane window, he could see the sun shining on the land below and as they started the descent to Alicante Airport he could make out the houses, white with red roofs. Most of them seemed to have swimming pools. ‘That’s what I want,’ Macker thought to himself, ‘Someday I’ll have that and more. The next time I go back to Ireland things will be a lot different.’ He would be the one with the money, the nice clothes, and calling the shots.

The announcement came to fasten seatbelts as they were about to land and Macker could feel a buzz of excitement rising within him. A new world was coming up fast. He had decided to take Terry up on his offer. The plane did a small bounce and they were on the ground to the cheers of the stag party at the back who broke into a song. As they taxied to the terminal building and stopped the click-click chorus of seatbelts being opened and the music of the different mobile phones could be heard despite the warning to wait until the plane had come to a complete stop and the doors had been opened. As they filed off the plane, Macker caught up with Terry and Micka and thanked them for their offer and said he would tag along with them until he found his feet, if they did not mind. As the three of them had no bags to collect, Terry slowed up and waited a short while for the drunken stag party to come alongside and the three of them walked through customs with the crowd. The customs man was not too interested in stopping a group of fellas full of drink so everyone walked through with no ID checks. They were out into the bright sunshine in no time and Macker felt a wave of hot air as they walked through the doors.

Hot, isn’t it? Terry said, as a man came forward to greet them.

Hola, Señor Terry, Señor Micka, said the man as he took their small bags from them and carried them to a people carrier car with tinted windows.

Ola, Miguel, replied Terry and Micka. Como estas?

Bien bien.

Macker was wondering what was going on when Terry introduced him to Miguel and told him that Miguel had said hello and that things were good.

You know how to speak Spanish? asked Macker.

Oh yes, you have to, answered Terry. With the amount of business that we do with the Spanish people, you have to know what they are saying. So the first thing I did was learn the language but Micka here never bothered except for ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ and ‘give us a beer’. Isn’t that right, Micka?

Yeah, I just couldn’t get into it, replied Micka.

While they drove along, Terry engaged in conversation with Miguel as Macker looked at the countryside speeding by. Nearly every house was painted white and he saw swimming pools in nearly all of them. As they passed by rivers and some lakes he noticed big hills of something white.

That’s not coke, laughed Micka, That’s salt. The locals sift it from the lakes.

After a half hour or so, they drove up into a small mountain range, through a village and up to the gates of a big house. The gates they opened automatically and they drove in.

Macker had never seen anything quite like the house and gardens, except in the movies. A large swimming pool was surrounded by a tiled terrace with tables and chairs and flowers of all shapes and colours. As it was getting dark, they went into the house, and were greeted by a beautiful Spanish woman. Terry introduced Macker to Maria, his wife. She shook hands with him and led them to a table where she had a bottle of wine and a snack of fruit and bread prepared for them.

Do you drink wine, Macker? Terry asked.

Not really, but I’ll give it a try.

Sound. You work away. I’d try the white if I was you, advised Terry.

He turned to Maria and asked her to fix up a room for their guest who would be staying for a few days. Maria replied in Spanish and whatever it was, she said it brought a sharp reply from Terry. Macker wondered what was going on as he followed Maria to a room that had the biggest bed he had ever seen. In the corner of the room was a door that led to a bathroom with a shower. He thanked Maria and said goodnight to her.

See you in the morning, Terry shouted from the front room, and sleep well.

Macker took a while to get to sleep. He wedged a chair against the door and kept the holdall tight to him in bed. Before he dozed off, he thought about the following morning. Then the questions would start of the questions and by then Terry would probably know what had happened back in the warehouse in Dublin. As he drifted off to sleep, he said to himself that he would deal with everything as it came up.

Chapter 3

T he sound of birds singing and splashing water woke Macker up next morning. The sun was shining through the open window and as he looked out over the valley below, he was amazed. He had never seen anything like it in his life: the white houses dotted around the hillside, the colours and smells of the trees and flowers. He dressed himself making a note that he would have to get some new clothes to match the weather. He walked out through the large sitting room out onto the patio where the view was even more spectacular. He could see for miles and miles. Then he noticed Terry in the swimming pool.

Morning, he said, Do you swim?

Not really, answered Macker, This is an amazing place you have.

Terry got out of the pool and put a bathrobe on,

Fancy a coffee?

To tell you the truth, Terry, I couldn’t take to the stuff yesterday.

Terry laughed,

I was the same meself at first. Horrible stuff, I thought it was, but like everything else out here, I changed and got to like it. Beside’s we had no proper tea when we came over. Would you fancy a cup of tea, then?

That would be great!

Terry handed Macker his tea and sat down. He looked at him and said,

We need to talk.

Macker noticed a change in Terry and suspected that he knew what had happened back in the warehouse.

Now Macker, here’s the fucking story. I’ve been in touch with some friends of mine back home and there’s a lot of questions to be answered. So don’t give me any bollocks. Don’t tell me any lies. Jjust tell me what happened

Macker took a sip of tea in an effort to control himself. He quickly considered his position. Here he was in a big house somewhere in Spain with a couple of fellas he did not know and nobody knew where he was. In other words, he could very easily be fucked. He took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Terry his story from the beginning.

He started with driving the car for Zibbo and the shooting of the anti-drugs young fella, and later taking over selling drugs for Thommo. He explained about helping a Mr. Gilroy with a problem he had which Macker could never understand. He told about the treatment he got from that bastard copper, Brown, and finally how he had legged it from the warehouse to be grabbed at his girlfriend’s house by somebody dressed in black who forced him to bring them back to the warehouse on the agreement that he would be let go and driven to the airport.

Terry looked at Macker for a few minutes,

"That’s some story, and if it’s true—and I will find out over the