WAIT OUT Part 10

Jock Steen was also passing out, his title of ‘sniper’ being confirmed by the senior instructor at the School of Infantry, in Warminster. During his, twenty-four months of military service, he had excelled with the 2nd Royal Regiment of Fusiliers. Known as a ‘sleeper’ by his PIRA handlers, his true name and whereabouts were known only to O’Brien.
Sniper course behind him, Jock travelled to Liverpool, taking advantage of a week’s leave to meet with O’Brien and a high ranking member of the newly formed Provisional Irish Republican Army, (PIRA).
Behind tightly closed doors in the Atlantic Hotel, situated in Chapel Street, Steen met and talked with his handlers.
“ You don’t need to know ma name or where am from, It’ll be better if you only have contact with Patrick here,” The PIRA man’s eyes were tight slits cut into his sharp, face.
Jock looked at O’Brien, taking the broad Northern Irish accent as recognition of the validity of the PIRA official. “I understand.” He said.
“ The skills your learnin’ will help our struggle.” The official continued. “The problem is the British have brought in the MI5 to monitor and follow people like me, so we have no alternative but to keep well out of the way.” He pointed to O’Brien. “ Patrick here has no past, as far as the British intelligence knows, so he’s a very important man.”
“You see Jock, MI5 are beginning to gather intelligence from the province,” O’Brien said, “People like,” he hesitated, “well like him,” he pointed to the stranger, “will be watched.” He continued. “ So it’s important that we can keep you, ‘up our sleeve’, so to speak.”
The stranger leant forward, and held Jock’s forearm, his deep eyes penetrated Jock’s soul “ You are a very important member, of a very important team, your skills will be called upon time after time,” He waited for a moment, his voice lowered menacingly, “let us down and your family will feel the consequences.”
Steen’s body went rigid as the words sank in, his eyes widened and he looked into the sub conscious of the PIRA man. “ Make no mistake, if my family are harmed in any way I’ll…”
O’Brien butted in. “ There’s no way your family will be harmed, their safety is not in question. What my friend here means is that you are in a unique position, these people don’t know you as I do Jock, They’re vulnerable, and don’t know who to trust.” He turned to the PIRA man. “ I’m telling you, this man is not the type who would sell to the highest bidder. I encouraged him to join the British Army, up until that point he was for joining any organisation that would right the wrongs of his Catholic family and the death of his Da’.”
Steen and the PIRA man sat back, each respecting the position of O’Brien.
“What have you for us?” O’Brien continued,
Jock sat silent for a moment and eyed the PIRA man. Letting out a sigh, he went to his briefcase and took out a series of lecture notes used on his sniper’s course, and handed them over.
The PIRA man smiled as he noted the pamphlet’s heading…
‘SCHOOL OF INFANTRY
SNIPER TRAINING
(RESTRICTED)
W02 EVANS
FOR OFFICER COMMANDING’
“ This is exactly what we need Jock,” he said as he thumbed the pages, “of course, we will need to supplement this with practical experience.” He looked straight into Jock Steen’s eyes, “ you are our link, can you come up with the goods? Can you train our active service units?”
“ Sure, he can.” O’Brien intervened. “ Make no mistake, he is more than capable of sharing his experiences with our ‘comrades in arms’ aren’t you Jock?”
Steen nodded as he slid his eyes from the PIRA man to O’Brien.
“As O’Brien knows Jock, we are having problems with weapons, most of the ones we’ve recovered from secret stores are old and rusting.”
“What have you got?” Jock was curious.
“ Well, not much, a few Thompson Sub-machine-guns, two M.1 carbines, a Spanish ‘Star’ automatic pistol, and a German Walther P38, a number of .22 rifles, and five .38 Webley’s”
“ Not much to build an Army, eh Jock.” O’Brien was trying to ease the conversation in the wake of the mistrust of his PIRA contact.
“ We’d appreciate your thoughts on the best weapons for the type of work we’re going to be doin’. We were thinking of Belgium FN’s.”
“ Too long and heavy. The M1’s a good weapon, short and light with plenty of power, makes it an easy weapon to conceal, yet has an effective range of three hundred and thirty yards.”
“The ones we have, we got from friends in America they’re second world war issue,” The PIRA man paused for a moment, “no,” he continued I can’t see us getting enough of them.”
“ In that case, I’d go for the Armalite AR-18, an inch longer, weighing in at 7.75 pounds when it’s loaded, the range increases to around five hundred yards, I’d say it was ideally suited.”
O’Brien put his arm around his protégé’s shoulder tugging him a little. He spoke to his Irish contact. “See, I told you he was good!”
The PIRA man’s stern face mellowed slightly as he responded. “You did indeed, and I can see that your trust has not been misplaced.”
“Anything else?” Jock asked.
“Well we are in a position to buy a number of RPG-7 Portable Rocket Launchers, what’s your thoughts on them?”
“ I have no thoughts, I know nothing about them. Just remember to tell your Army whose side I’m on when they start firing.” Jock’s remark broke the ice.
The trio talked late into the night. Steen suggested that weapon training should begin straight away. It was decided that the training could be done along the banks of the Shannon, using the .22’s and the Webley’s, which could be adapted easily to cut down the noise and power.
Although the meeting had a cold start, by 3 a.m., the three had agreed their roles, and Jock Steen was formerly taken into the swelling ranks of the PIRA. Although it would be some time before his existence would be properly announced to other members.
…