Jade:  Perhaps you should go out and look for them, boyo.

Ryan:  William knows where the place is, aingeal.

Ryan was stretched out before the fire, as always, his face buried in
the worn copy of 'Ulysses' he had liberated from the Indy Public Library.

Jade:  It's getting dark.

Ryan:  So it is, lass.

Jade:  Maybe they've had an accident.

Ryan:  Lass, William is an accident.  Rest yourself.

Jade paced the rag rug, glancing out the window with every pass.

Jade:  It's cold out there.

Ryan:  Aye, lass.  It's winter.

Jade dropped Munchin onto his lap.  The Munch landed with claws splayed,
and Ryan cut loose with a yelp.

Ryan:  What in hell was that for?  Damn, I've been punctured!

Jade:  You're incorrigible.

After what felt like an eternity Jade heard foorsteps crossing the porch.
She rushed to open the door, and Ryan raised his head from his book.

Ryan:  William...about time, boyo.

Bill and Deb were covered with snow, wet to the knees.  Deb's thin shoes
were soaking.

Deb:  We had to...walk the last five miles...Dale Earnhart here put the
truck in a snowbank...

Bill:  You gonna shut up?

Deb:  I'm tired, I'm cold, I'm hungry...you want me quiet, too?

Ryan:  Might be askin' more than she can give, lad.

Jade was racing around, trying to think of everything the two apprentice
snowmen might need to warm themselves and be comfortable.  She brought
blankets, dry socks, mugs of coffee liberally spiked with brandy, towels...

Bill:  She c'n manage...she just might need a refresher course...

Deb:  Go ahead...slap me up...I'm not sure I can feel anything.

Bill:  Five miles of that bitching behind me...

He stabbed a big finger in Deb's face.

Bill:  ...now shut the goddamn hell up!

His voice was low and fierce, dangerous.  Deb looked to Jade and Ryan.
She sighed, smiled ruefully and gestured at Bill.

Deb:  Behind me, he said...breaking the trail, and keeping me out of the
wind with his body.  He took the worst of it.  Sorry, Bill...you know how 
I get when things get out of whack.  Stupid road was awful, I don't know 
how he got us as far as he did with no trouble.

Bill settled back on the couch, feet in a pair of Ryan's socks stretched
out towards the fire.  Deb leaned over to kiss his cheek and he regarded her
with one slitted eye.

Bill:  Gonna be good?

Deb:  I think I can fake it.

Ryan:  Jade...they're hungry...the food.  She's been out there all week
doing battle with that stove...

Jade sprang to her feet and rushed into the kitchen, Ryan on her heels.
Jade dished up fragrant chicken stew while Ryan carved hunks off of her
loaves of homemade bread.  Munchin had followed them and was regarding the
stew with intense feline interest.  Ryan took up the tray holding the
food and backed into the living room.  They stumbled into what looked like
a very romantic moment for Bill and his woman, and they stopped.  Bill and
Deb were nose to nose, with her arms around his neck...and then they heard
what he was saying to her.

Bill  ...I don't give a rat's ass how cold and wet ya were, ya do that to
me again...

Deb:  I'm sorry...I forget sometimes.  I didn't mean any of it.  Except
the part about you taking the worst of it.  You didn't have to.

Bill:  No, I didn't.  And you're damn lucky you can't keep anything off your
face, cause if I had t'go by what came outa your mouth...you'd be long gone.

Deb:  Guess I'm also lucky you decided you could use what I have to give.
I don't pretend to understand it.

Bill:  You kept tryin' t'make me explain it.

Deb:  You came about as close as you could, and then it was like pulling
teeth.  That's enough of that shit...

Bill:  'Bout time.

Deb:  Thought you'd say that.  Hey...there's Ryan and Jade...you'll feel
better if you eat.

She moved away from him and finally Ryan and Jade came in to the fire.
Jade winked at Deb and pulled a face at the back of Bill's head.

Bill accepted his bowl of stew and a couple of golden hunks of bread and
went to work on them like a starving hound.  Munchin cruised the room,
looking for a likely victim.  Jade shooed her away gently, Ryan warned her 
off with a stern look.  Finally she settled on the arm of the couch next to
Deb, licking her chops, twitching her tail, and purring.

Ryan:  Don't be feedin' her a bite, lass.  She's fat.

Deb poked Munchin in the belly, normally a clawable offense, but the cat
sensed a capitulation and was tolerant of the indignity.  She purred on,
giving Deb her most deprived look.

Deb:  She has put on some weight since we picked her up.

Ryan:  How's that gray sod?

Bill stared Ryan in the face.

Bill:  Y'mean that goddamn moose she carted home.  Jesus H. Christ.

Deb:  He likes Bill's lap, but he always puts his legs asleep.

Bill:  Damn lucky I ain't been paralyzed yet.

Munchin had taken advantage of the fact that everyone was preoccupied
and had poked her head into Deb's bowl.  She was busily devouring the stew
and would have cleaned it up if Jade hadn't caught her.  She grabbed the
little cat, scolding her, and tossed her out the window.

Bill:  Wouldn't do that?

Jade:  She's been a bad girl.  When she's bad, she goes outside.

Bill:  Coyotes.  Eat cats.

Jade:  Dammit!

Munchin was already disappearing toward the treeline when Jade hit the 
door, armed with a flashlight and several of the fishy smelling treats.

Jade:  Munchie...here, kitty kitty...dammit, get the hell over here...
Munchie, baby...friggin' cat...

Ryan laughed silently until Jade was well out of earshot, then the big
man collapsed against the back of his chair, wiping at streaming eyes.

Ryan:  She'll be in a state when she finally comes back...William...is it
true?

Bill:  Mountains are full of 'em.  Eat anything they c'n catch, why would
I lie to 'er?  On the other hand, I'd like t'stake that fuckin' llama out
for 'em.

Ryan:  Llama?

Bill:  Damn overgrown goat...nothin' I have to worry about, 'cept that the
stupid thing has fits whenever it sees me...moans like hell...

Deb:  Dolly's in love with him.

Bill grazed her chin with a closed fist.  Deb shrugged at him in a most
disarming fashion.  Jade blasted back through the door, coated with snow,
shivering and bearing the equally soaked and pissed cat.  Munchin leaped
to the floor and streaked up the stairs, presumably to clean herself in the
center of the bed and then to crawl under the blankets to warm up.

Jade:  Dammit, have we got something to drink in this stinking place I'm
freezing my ass off...?!  Damn cat went under a pine tree...

Ryan:  Could have just let the coyotes get her, darlin'.

Jade turned an aggrieved expression onto Ryan.

Jade:  How could you say that, Ryan?  Our Munchie...?

Ryan:  Then don't be complainin' about rollin' in the snow.  Patience,
love, I'll get you somethin' to drink...

And so the drinking began.  And the singing, and the drinking and the
singing, and the clumsy atempts at clogdancing by Ryan which ended by 
catapulting him into Jade's lap.  This was followed by more drinking, after
which Bill and Ryan got into an ideological discussion which turned into an
ideological argument which turned into a fist-fight which only ended when
Jade and Deb managed to shove them out into the snow.  The evening ended
on a spectacular note.  Jade had been pestering Ryan about the contents
of his green jars.  He took a small amount of the concoction and blew a
three foot hole in the ground.  After that, it seemed there was nothing left
but to sleep.  Jade and Deb managed to, but it appeared that neither of the
men felt any need to rest.  Bill and Ryan went out early and took one 
Suburban down the road to pull the other one out of the snowbank.  Bill 
drove back to fetch the spectacularly hung over Deb and they headed back 
to Lubbock, leaving Ryan and Jade to the blessed solitude.
After the mess was made from Deb and Bill’s recent visit, it was nice to 
relax in the quiet of the little cabin in front of the crackling fire, a 
book spread out on the lap... cat curled up on top of it.

Jade rubbed Munchin behind the ears and then tossed her onto the floor.  
The newly evicted cat glared at her, then stretched her way to the 
kitchen.  Jade followed, and found Ryan at the table, pouring over 
notebooks which looked as if there were scribbled blueprints for... 
for...

She abruptly turned to prepare a pot of tea.  Ryan closed the book, 
gathered up the loose pages.

Jade:  You never came to bed last night.

Ryan:  Aye, I was busy.  

Jade:  With...?

Ryan:  Things that—

Jade:  --need not concern me, I know.  But what if I think they do?

Ryan stood and approached her from behind, slipped his arms around her 
waist.

Ryan:  If I have anything to do with it, you’ll never have to.

There was the faint sound of scratching, and they both turned in concert 
to find Munchin pondering the use of the throw rug as a suitable place 
to relieve herself.

Ryan:  Och, No! Munchin! 

Jade:  I think we should get her some litter... the shredded newspaper 
just isn’t making her happy.  

Jade had found a low, metal tub and filled it with torn up newspaper, 
for they had nothing resembling litter or sand or whatnot.  She had 
predicted that the cat would have nothing to do with it.  She hadn’t 
gone near it the entire time, using instead various corners of the 
cabin.

Ryan:  There are some things I need from town anyway, love.  We’ll make 
a day of it.

He kissed her and gave her a brief hug, then went to put on warmer 
clothes.  Jade waited until he was gone, then gave the pile of notes on 
the table a wary eye.  

Dressed as snowmen, they plodded out toward the truck, which was parked 
half a mile away in a spot sheltered from the weather.  On a normal day, 
it was a nice walk through the greenery, but it had snowed again the 
night before, and there was a fresh six inches on the ground.  

Ryan:  Cold day like this makes a man want to turn back and warm up, any 
way he knows how...

Jade grinned devilishly.  The trip would perhaps not be so long after 
all.

They made it to the truck and piled in.  While the Suburban was warming 
up, Jade leaned over and slipped one hand here... the other... here... 
and Ryan fell onto her as a starved man.  After fogging up the windows 
and waking up half the wildlife within half a mile radius, Jade was 
curled up on his lap, her head on his shoulder and lips so very close to 
his neck.  He held her easily, his thick arms wound around her.  In the 
quiet, Jade asked a most innocent sounding question.

Jade:  Why do you do it?

Ryan:  Do what, lass?

Jade:  Why do you... why did you...

Ryan:  A part of me thrived on it, love.  Needed it.  Every day was 
pain.  I wanted to make the world know I was not a worthless mick from 
the lanes of Newry...  and I wanted the Queen’s dogs to know that 
Ireland had not given them the worst of it yet.

His voice held something more, but she knew he would never talk about it 
unless he chose to.  His answer to her question was nearly always 
political, a wall between what he felt down to his core and what he 
could accept about himself.  

Ryan:  I was wrong in many things I did.  But I still enjoy the chase.

He turned a wicked grin on her and she didn’t know whether to laugh or 
cry.  Instead, she kissed his jaw and sat up, arranging her clothes as 
he headed out on the small road that would connect to the main highway.

Jade:  Do you still think about... McGivney?

His face turned to stone, his answer was quick, clipped.

Ryan:  No.

They rode in silence for a while, and Jade stared out the window.  She 
noticed that there was a black Nissan Maxima behind them, and had been 
for several miles.  She was about to comment on it when she felt the 
truck accelerate.

Jade:  Ryan... you think you should be going eighty through here...?

Ryan:  It's a good road and I have a fast truck.  

She glanced in the side mirror again and saw that the Maxima was much 
closer.  The truck’s engine purred louder, started to vibrate in a most 
unhealthy way for a motor vehicle.  

Jade:  Exactly.  This is a road, not an airstrip... damnit...

His answer was curt.

Ryan:  Get down, love, please.

He pushed her head down firmly but gently, forcing her below the level 
of the windows.

Jade:  What’s going on...?  Is it... Her?

She was thinking back to the cruel woman with the two black-masked thugs 
who had assaulted her in Kentucky.  The days afterwards, waiting up for 
Ryan as she wondered if he were alive or dead... Christmas...

Ryan:  No, little one...it's not her.  Nothing to become alarmed about.

Jade:  Well then, why am I kissing the floorboards?

Ryan:  Aingeal...

Jade fixed him with a stare, and he felt it, even though his attention 
was still mainly on the road and the car behind them, which he had 
fought to keep behind him.  There was no way to keep this from her much 
longer, no way to protect her.  She was strong, which was one of the 
reasons he had fallen for her.

Ryan:  I will explain.  This is not the time to do so.  Now stay down 
and do as you are told.

As he said this, she was already crawling into the back seat to search 
for a weapon of some kind.  He pushed her back, knowing what she was 
looking for was underneath the passenger seat.  He would only resort to 
it if necessary.

Jade:  There are still a couple of those jars in the back.

Ryan:  Too fast, love...we'd only blow a hell of a hole in the road and 
I don’t believe in wasting things that might come in handy later.

Ryan pressed down harder on the accelerator and cursed himself for 
allowing the front end to get so badly out of alignment.  In the 
interim, Jade had slipped into the back seat again, determined to find 
something in the event that Ryan’s fancy ass driving wouldn’t be enough 
to keep the hounds at bay.

Jade:  How in hell do I know what this shit does, except stink.

She located a gun... realized that it's was a revolver and that she 
didn’t have the right ammunition for it.  Ryan heard her curse from the 
backseat as he cut off the Maxima again, causing the tires to squeal and 
Jade to rock unsteadily on her knees.

Ryan:  You're not supposed to know, love.  Put that down.

Ryan jammed on the brakes, cranked the wheel to the left.  Jade felt the 
truck rock again, heard the tires scream in protest at the power slide.  
Ryan fought the wheel as she grabbed hold of the seat, felt her brain 
flop around in her head.

Jade:  Allright, we're taking this thing into the shop when we get to 
town... 

Ryan:  Quiet. 

It was an order.  She crawled into the front seat, ducked her head 
nearly underneath the dashboard, reminded of the days that he was her 
teacher, her mentor... and how he had demanded instant obedience, for 
any screw up could get you killed.  There had been hard lessons, and 
there had been days she’d wanted to tell him to go to hell.  Hearing the 
tone return to his voice made her realize that this was much more 
serious than she had hoped.  

Ryan straightened the wheels, jammed the transmission into first, and 
floored the accelerator, speed shifting into fifth.  She was nearly 
thrown onto the floor, and in her efforts to remain upright, her hand 
fell on the Glock underneath the passenger seat.  Ryan glanced to the 
passenger side to see a hand slip the gun up onto the dashboard, then 
disappear back into the depths of the floor below.

A single shot rang out, almost inaudible over the screaming engines.

Jade:  I don’t think that was his engine backfiring...

Ryan:  Nor do I.  Stay down.  I had hoped the young eejit would refrain 
from pushing me.  Load that, please... then get ready to take the wheel.

Young idiot?  Ryan knew who it was.  Jade made a mental note of this, 
decided after they got out of this... if... when... he was going to tell 
her what in hell was going on.  She slipped into the seat, keeping her 
head down, and unlocked the glove compartment.  Inside was one clip, 
half full.  She loaded it into the gun and advanced a round into the 
chamber.  They had attempted this once before, and had succeeded, but it 
had been four years ago on a nearly deserted Cork street.

Ryan:  Are you ready?  do you remember how to do this?

She nodded.

Ryan:  On three, then.  One...two...three.

As soon as the word left his mouth, Ryan rolled over the back of the 
seat, reaching for the Glock, getting out of Jade's path to the driver's 
seat.  The truck immediately slowed, began tracking toward the roadside 
ditch.  Ryan absently yanked the vehicle back into something resembling 
a straight line. She scrambled into the drivers seat and the truck 
picked up again, swerving to narrowly miss the guardrail. 

Jade:  Be careful.

Ryan:  Am I not alive to hear you say that?

An elliptical reference to their past...she had always begged him to 
take care...and he had always returned to her.  He checked his loads, 
but knew instinctively that she did her job correctly.  He stared out 
the back window... at the driver of the car.  Jade swerved to cut the 
car off.

Ryan:  The window locks are on.  Lower the left rear window, please.  

His voice was as calm as though he were seated in a pub, ordering up his 
first pint of the evening.  She did as he asked, absently checking 
around for another clip as she struggled with the wheel.  It was a 
cursory glance, but he caught it, and he roared from the back seat.

Ryan:  DRIVE the fucking CAR!

Jade:  What?  I am, goddamnit!

His head snapped around, eyes dark.  He’d slipped back into the old ways 
completely.  Another shot rang out, and there was the sound of a bullet 
piercing cheap Detroit sheetsteel.  He never flinched.  Instead, his 
eyes bored into her, his expression reflected in the rearview.  She bit 
her lip against a remark and kept her eyes on the road.  His voice 
was... ice.

Ryan:  Don’t. Test. Me.  

She stayed silent, but he did not turn away.

Ryan:  Keep your fool gob shut or you’ll be findin’ what it is to cross 
me.  Doubt me?

He waited for her answer, would jump all over her if she so much as used 
an improper tone.  One eye on the Maxima, but he had no fear of the 
driver.  One of the soldiers was using her closeness to the commanding 
officer to mutiny.

Jade:  I don’t doubt you.  I'm driving...

This was apparent.  A quick swerve and the car was pushed back again.

Ryan:  See you continue...

Time was running out. He turned from Jade, leaned out the window, and 
focused on the front grill of the car that was following so closely.  
Jade, in the meanwhile, glanced at the gas gauge.  It was below a 
quarter of a tank, and at the speeds she was maintaining, the big V8 
would deplete what was left in no time.  Yet, she said nothing, knowing 
that Ryan must have taken this into account.  

Ryan readied himself to use the handgun.  He had always hated firearms, 
cheap and messy, with none of the grandeur of his chosen media.  There 
was no creation involved with a gun, except that of possible problems.  
Regardless, he was proficient with the Glock as he was with gelignite, 
and he could easily take the head off the driver... if the truck was 
steady enough.  He cursed the rough and curving road, cursed the ice, 
cursed the makers of this piece of shit truck that they were riding 
in... and cursed the day when Jade left his side so many years ago.  Had 
she been with him all this time... 

He shook his head, prepared to lean out the window to get a clean shot.  
Neither would be the person they were now.  All the same, she’d be able 
to take orders and keep the damn truck on the road!  Ryan pushed down 
his frustration and forced himself to concentrate on what was in front 
of him (or behind him, however one looked at it). 

Jade swerved to avoid a rather large pothole in the road, and the car 
groaned.  

Ryan:  On the next straight stretch...hold us as steady as you can.

She said nothing, simply fought the wheel, bearing down on it hard, 
chewing her lip hard enough to taste blood.  

Ryan:  Jade... Jade...?  How many rounds have I here?

Her answer was simple, without the usual tart retort.

Jade:  Five.

Ryan:  Thank you.  Steady, lass...

Five... will it be enough?  How many could he actually hope to put 
through his chosen target?  Damn...  Back out the window, his entire 
upper body hanging over the road, which was rushing by at an 
unbelievable ninety miles an hour.  There was no way in the world, he 
thought as he attempted to aim at the driver’s head.  Yet... he must 
force the issue... he must, for his own sake, for Jade’s...

He stared at the car hard, steeled his legs and feet, gripped the gun in 
two granite fists... and the world fell away.  Tunnel vision, the roar 
of the wind in the ears fading, the howling motor died away to a faint 
buzzing.  Gently, gently, he depressed the trigger... and the shot went 
wide.  He pulled himself back into the truck, spitting curses.

Ryan:  Fucking eejit!  Canna drive worth a damn, ye wee British bastard!  

Ryan glanced over his shoulder.

Ryan:  Not you, lass.

Jade merely stared back at him.  Her old self was late in returning, but 
apparently it had.  Mechanical.  Her eyes flicked back to the road, 
maneuvering easily around obstacles.  He welcomed her back, this Diana 
of the hunt, but in the back of his head, he felt less than thrilled.  
He shook his head.  Must puzzle over this later.  

He drew a breath, held it.  Jade was as solid as a rock, making him feel 
like he was pressed to the good Irish earth itself.  He took aim and 
fired again, knowing instinctively that this one would pierce the 
radiator.  But one slug wouldn’t stop the little car in time... he’d 
have to make the three remaining rounds count.  He took the third shot 
quickly, before the driver could swerve away, but it merely starred the 
safety glass of the windscreen.  

Ryan:  Damnit.

He took aim and fired the last two rounds, shattering the windshield and 
breaking the hood latch loose.  The bonnet flew up into the driver’s 
face, forcing him to slow and pull over, blinding him.  The car was 
hidden in a cloud of steam as it disappeared in the distance.

Ryan:  Slow down, Jade.  This piece of shit needs to get us to the next 
town.

His voice was faint, tired, distant.  He sagged against the back seat as 
he feels the truck slow.  

Ryan:  Christ Jesus, how I hate these fucking things.

The Glock went through the window, over the guardrail.  After a time, 
Jade still hadn’t said anything.  He sighed and wiped the sweat from his 
face with the arm of his coat.

Ryan:  Pull over at the next exit, lass.  This thing won’t get us much 
farther at this rate.  

She did as she was told and parked at a gas station that hinted at some 
sort of automobile service.  They left the truck in the care of a 
backwoods mechanic and hoofed over to the truck stop.  It was dirty, but 
warm, and they served some sort of weak, thin tea.  Lipton, my arse.  He 
led Jade to a corner booth and they both sipped from white mugs, Ryan’s 
eyes never stopping their scan of the little building.  He reached out 
for her hand, covered it with his own, rubbed her skin soothingly.  
After a time, Jade spoke in a quiet tone.

Jade:  What is going on?

He said nothing, glanced out the window.  

Jade:  Is this the same problem that followed us half way cross the 
country?

Ryan:  Aye.  It is. 

Jade:  Remember, you said, no secrets between us? 

He nodded.  

Jade:  Who was the woman?

Ryan:  Her name is Cecily Hayward, an Brit who was a Sinn Fein 
sympathizer.  I met her twenty years ago, through our group.  She 
followed us around like a dog ‘till she proved that even though her dad 
was a Black and Tan, she had the heart of a goddamn Republican.  We... 
had a few nights... she thought there was moreto me, but I didn’t care 
for her past a shag or two.  I knew she didn’t care for Ireland, that 
she was there for the power rush... 

He dropped his eyes to his mug, and Jade squeezed his hand.  He was lost 
in his own thoughts for a time.  Finally, he spoke again.

Ryan:  The boy following us, the one with the black mask, he was my son.  
It is him I fear for you most... 

Jade sat in stunned silence, taking it all in.  She spoke hesitantly, 
trying to understand how much of a mess this seemed to be.  She feared 
that there was more... 

Jade:  your... son... and your former lover, come back to... claim you?

Ryan:  Cecily has always thought that she had a right to me.  Riain... I 
don’t know why he’s here.  I’ve never met the whelp... I sent a message 
to them, a Christmas gift.  They’ve not heeded my warnings...

He still wasn’t telling her everything... but this was more than enough 
for the time being.  

Ryan:  You have to be extremely careful. 

Jade:  I will, Ryan.  You have my word.

Ryan:  I’d better, little one.  These are the extremely dangerous...

Ryan looked up to the waitress, standing with one hand on her hip, the 
other holding a steaming pot of coffee.  

Waitress:  Ya want more?

Jade:  I’m sorry, we had tea.

She frowned and tromped back to the counter without offering them more 
tea.  Jade shrugged and half-smiled at Ryan, who looked as if he hadn’t 
just been pouring his heart out but two minutes ago.  

Ryan:  Let’s get over to that mechanic and see if we can get our arses 
out of here before we take up roots.

Jacque Whitworth - 1999

TO BE CONTINUED.......

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