In the Line of Duty

[Lady Enelya]

This story is set in Ireland in 1918. I'm posting it cus I'm entering it in a competition next week and I would really love some feed back! plz PM me with any thoughts or suggestions!

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Maread O Hagan sat on the hard tram seat, reading the daily paper, it told of monumental losses on the British side. Four hundred thousand young men lay dead in the Passchendale battlefield far from home, when many Irishmen were needed on a much closer battlefield.

The revolution of 1916 was a failure, but the spirit that drove those young men was still very much alive. Alighting from the tram she saw her destination, the decrepit bar which was; like her, much more than it seemed.

The war room was a scene of marginally controlled chaos. Tec’s hurried to and fro, waving intelligence reports and Commander and Chief Michael Collins was calling for calm. Even in the secluded apartment above Flaherty’s bar, the stench of stale beer and tobacco smoke drifted up to them along with the steady tum-da-dum of the bóran.

Tapping her fingers in time to the music, Maread slouched in a chair, occasionally lifting a glass of cheap ale to her lips. She had a naturally commanding appearance, but now her anger intensified her features as she eyed with disapproval her younger sister, Katrina, attempting to flirt with Collins, it was embarrassing to watch. As he dismissed Katrina with a casual wave of his hand, he caught Maread's eye, and smiled. Laughing she stood up and pushed away from the table. She headed over to were he was distributing the assignments for the next month.

“Ah my favourite ladies!?he said as she and Katrina approached, “Got a very special job for you this month, I want you to head up to Mullingar and meet with a man there by the name of Johan Rendar, he will tell you the details of the assignment.?Maread turned to walk away “Oh and before I forget I am assigning a new girl to you this month, she just joined, she needs a tight rein to begin with.?

He finished pointing to a tall figure swaggering towards them; her ginger hair platted in a single braid the length of her back. Casually this newcomer flicked her cigarette stub onto the ground before even looking at the O?Hagans.

When she did her green eyes were filled with ill-concealed scorn as she eyed the sisters. “So these are the floozies I will be working with then, I only hope there half as good as you say they are Collins.

Michelle Collins stiffened, just visibly, as she turned and stalked away, “My names Súin by the way.?She called before she opened the door and disappeared into the chatter of patrons and whirl of smoke that was Flaherty's bar.


The following morning at dawn, when the rising sun was casting bleak shadows over the landscape, Maread and Katrina sat shivering in a truck, waiting for their new comrade to show up. They had been waiting almost twenty minutes now, and Katrina was anxious to get under way.

It had turned out that this Rendar character was some kind of German General, whose father had been a German but whose mother had been from Meath. He himself had been educated at Trinity, and his non-discript accent helped him blend in.

“Look, over there?Maread murmured jerking her head in the direction of Grosset Street Katrina looked to see their old friend Súin strolling quite casually along. Maread did not say anything only scowled a little harder as Súin got into the truck and lit her cigarette.


Firing up the engine and driving to the end of the road, were the security barricades were set up along St. Mathew’s junction, the truck slowed to a crawl. Even at that, the British were unlikely to stop three ladies. That was the genius of Collin’s plan, were men would be stopped for searches, women would be allowed to pass.

The days drive was punctuated only by Katrina's endless whining about Súins cigarette smoke. Upon reaching Kildare Maread was getting tired, and even Katrina’s moans had stopped as she was lying back; eyes closed. A sharp snore from the back seat showed that Súin was also asleep, her mouth hanging open, making her look even more gormless than usual. Pulling over at a seedy looking Inn, Maread prodded Katrina until she awoke with a start “Where’s the cannon??she said stupidly rubbing sleep from her eyes.


At that moment several men exploded through the door of the Inn singing loudly and swaying dangerously on their feet. Súin looked about dazed, but awake. She yawned, the gold of her back tooth glinting menacingly in the evening lamplight. “Are we there yet??she said suppressing another yawn, which contorted her features and made her a nightmare picture in the evening light.

“Not quite,?she said “but we are going to stay here this evening, I only hope the owner supports the rebellion.?
Maread's confident strides lead the three unlikely heroines through the crowded Inn; the landlord eyed them suspiciously as they approached.


Maread pushed Katrina to the front with a meaningful stare. Katrina cleared her throat, “Are your four sons home??she said pointedly, locking eyes with the owner. For a moment the man stared at her, and they all held their breath.

“No, but they soon will be?He replied with a laugh that set the folds of flesh jiggling at his throat. Their relief must have showed as the man laughed again “Don’t worry, Collins is an old friend of mine, why I knew his mother well, and my wife nursed him as a baby. He told me the signal only yesterday. Marga!? He called addressing someone in the shadows.

“What do you want now?? Came the voice, and a portly woman emerged drying her hands on her dirty apron. She eyed the three girls and her face went stony, she turned on her husband “I thought you said you’re not mixed up in all that anymore?she spat “I don’t believe it. How long have you been helping them??

“You only asked me yesterday not to. Marga, what was I supposed to do? As a last favour to Collins he asked me to put up any operatives that came this way.? He looked apologetically at the girls before handing them a key and motioning to a man sitting in the corner, before mouthing “He wants to talk to someone in the IRA.?


Súin looked to where he was pointing, to see a handsome man of about thirty, sitting hunched over his pint. He looked nervous, and kept looking over his shoulder, a single white feather lay on the table, which he often eyed with distaste. Súin started in that direction, but Maread held her arm, assessing the situation before heading over herself.

She sat down opposite the young man, while Súin and Katrina took up positions to her right and left. “If you are here to give me another feather, don’t bother I already have one?he snapped looking up at them.
“We are not here for that. We are part of the rebellion?Katrina interjected
“Well then. I have some information from the front lines that might interest you.? He smiled bitterly. Maread motioned for him to continue. “I was at Passchendale when we suffered huge losses, on both sides; in particular the British. It was awful; we sat in the cold and wet, while the generals sat in camps, miles behind the front line. Many of the Irishmen there regret their decision to join the army. We are expendable to the British; we were used like cannon fodder. I don’t regret my decision to desert, and know one will make me feel otherwise.?He said pointedly, seeing the look that passed between Súin and Katrina.

“A few days before we were supposed to go over the top, there was a hit and fade attack on the frontline. It happened in the middle of the night and everyone was asleep. All I heard was a colossal blast that echoed through the hills, over an over. It was the most frightening experience of my life, and one I never want to repeat. After the attack moral was very low, and the men want to come home and help with the rebellion. However no one wants to risk being court-marshalled, especially if you lot are not going to make a move.

They are looking for assurance that the IRA can and will help them.?
Katrina was sniggering; she thought the whole thing was very funny and was whispering to Súin that she did not think it sounded all that scary.

The man glared at her “You think this is funny do you? You think your life here is frightening? You don’t know the meaning of the word fear. I have seen things you haven’t seen in your nightmares, things you can’t even imagine. Do you know what it is like to sit in the darkness, to hear an explosion and a scream, and find that the person next to you is dead or to hear the man you shot call to you and beg your help.? He snapped with more fire than he had intended. Maread stood up, and turned to walk away.
“We’ll be in touch.?


The following day was hot, and the long drive from Kildare to Mullingar was uncomfortable to say the least. The twisting roads still had pools of water in them from the torrential rain the night before. As the truck rolled along it sent tidal waves of muddy water into nearby fields. Upon reaching Mulingar, the girls located a post office.

Súin was elected to ask if there was a telegram for them, and there was. It said,
To my new friends. Stop.
I am Johan Rendar. Stop. Meet me in Jackson’s hotel. Stop. Be there before sundown. Stop.
Johan Rendar. Stop.
“Where is Jackson’s hotel?Katrina queried. Maread shook her head, still staring at the paper. As if doing so she could read between the lines and learn something about their new allies.

“I think that is in the back streets of town, it is a pretty seedy place.?Súin put in causally.

The back street was a dirty place; beggars lay in doorways almost indistinguishable from the filth blackened buildings. These street dwellers would sell them anything and the particulars made Maread’s stomach roil.

[Lady Enelya]

Where they stayed could have been any hotel in any of the cites Maread had stayed in, but the prices here would have bought them all a new house in Mayo. After checking in they headed to the bar to await the imminent arrival of Mr. Rendar.
“He must have chose this place on purpose,” Katrina thought, “just to get a rise out of them. Well when he gets here I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.”
“Buy you a drink beautiful.” Said a voice behind them. Katrina spun around defensively, ready to flatten the person who had said it. A man stood there, he was tall and had the air of an ungainly bird. His hair was the colour of a rook’s wing. Katrina thought his eyes had a hypnotising quality, one was grey the other green.
Maread stood up to greet the newcomer. He extended his hand but she didn’t take it, only eyed him sceptically. “ I won’t bite” he assured her, before grabbing her hand and shaking it enthusiastically.
Katrina stared dumbstruck at the figure before her; he was not what she was expecting at all. She was expecting a forty year old Arian with a monocle, and a heavy accent. This man standing before her did not look old enough to be a General, he had to only twenty; and apart from the rolling of his final R sounds he could easily pass for Irish.
“I believe we are all here to discuss what we can do to ah...help you in your plight against British oppression. Here take this to your commander. I want you to pick up some weaponry and training manuals in Dublin, as a token of friendship, shall we say.” He smiled at them and turned to leave.
“Hold it one moment.” Súin burst in “Why are you so eager to help us? Previously we have asked for your help and you have denied it, what has changed?”
“I am afraid I am not at liberty to disclose that information, national security and all that.” He answered slyly.
“Oh but we are going to be allies after all, you could at least tell us why?” Katrina had rose to her feet, and her face was turning scarlet.
Their discussion was cut short by the angry shouts from one corner of the room “I don’t want the money tomorrow I want it now” said the first man.
“You won’t need the money if you’re dead” the second, smaller man put in, threatening the first with a broken bottle. A third man jumped him from behind, hoping to restrain him. However this only led to further confusion and more aggression on the part of the smaller man, who was surprisingly strong for his size.
The situation could easily degrade into the mass panic of a brawl at any moment. Rendar, being a gentleman to the core, ushered the three women out in front of him. Outside the cool night air condensed their breaths in a misty cloud in front of them. “Alright, I’ll tell you. German high command wants Britain to stand alone in the war. We have promised to support a communist uprising in Russia. If Vladimer Lenin acts now and rallies the Bolsheviks into overthrowing the Czar, we will drop pamphlets over their trenches telling them to return to Russia to support the uprising. We want to do something similar here, we want to drive out the British, then Ireland will claim neutrality in the war.” As Rendar lay down the details of his plans the three operatives listened in stunned silence.
On the drive to Dublin Katrina pondered all that Rendar had told them, she wondered what would happen to their way of life if the communists took control? Would they…no could they be worse than the British? She also wondered about their reasons for joining the IRA, she had always felt strongly about the movement, but Maread on the other hand. That mystery still eluded her, it just happened one day, Maread came home from town saying she had signed them both up in the IRA. Their mother had been furious and had insisted that this war was no place for girls but neither had listened.
The buildings were the pick up was to be was in the centre of Dublin. It was accessible only by a series of disused workmen’s shafts. However the girls did not know that they were being watched.
Far across the city in Dublin castle a large man was in the middle paying the cultural minister his monthly bribe when Aíne glided in. She moved with the grace of a professional dancer, but she was the only one of her kind trained to be an assassin. “What is it?” he barked dismissing the minister, and turning to stare out the window at the city below.
“The IRA operatives have arrived in the city, their truck was spotted in the vicinity of the Barrie warehouse district.” She replied calmly
“What? You mean they have evaded the British picket line and have entered the city as bold as you please.” He insisted his face turning red. Aíne nodded “Well, have some one check it out, and if they come back have the men kill them circumspectly of course.” He finished laughing.
The dregs of the dregs, the murky effluvia flowed around their feet and it stank like something long dead; dim overhead lanterns lit the tunnel, but it was bright enough to see as much as they wanted. Up ahead they heard two splashes that sounded like someone had dropped a couple of head sized stones into the inky liquid. Katrina screamed and tried to jump into Maread’s arms, all she succeeded in doing was covering them all in grime.
“What’s with her?” Súin asked good-naturedly
“She doesn’t like little swimming or running things.” Maread replied trying to stop the smile that kept tugging at her lips.
Climbing out of the access grate, all three took several gulps of clear air, before finally looking around to survey their surroundings. It was wide room with a high ceiling; several brown boxes lay littered in a corner, while a desk and chair covered with a dustsheet occupied a niche by the door. In the centre of the room lay their prize, about a dozen boxes all marked with an eagle the standard of imperial Germany. Súin hurried over to them, she opened the first box and rifled through the sawdust until she came across a brand new German luger. She stared at it. “They weren’t kidding when they said top of the line equipment!” Katrina opened another box and removed some field training manuals. Maread lifted a box and motioning at the other boxes, she said.
“Okay you two. Lift a box and lets get started. I want this finished before nightfall.”
Five round trips later and all the boxes were safely stowed, in the back of the truck. Aíne and the lackeys from Dublin Castle had obviously got tired of waiting. They had been told by Collins to destroy the building after the pick up had been made, so as to leave no evidence of their plan.

[Lady Enelya]

Maread coming towards the truck at a slow jog. The charges she had set would go of any minute. Maread stopped as a slender figure glided towards Katrina through the shadows. She watched in astonishment as the women spoke with her for a moment before, she seemed to find the darkest shadows as if she belonged there.
“What was that about” Maread asked as she approached, and the slender woman glided away again.
“Nothing. Just drop it.” Katrina snapped back “It was just a message she asked me to give to Collins”
The explosion was a yellow, orange ball, its’ intensity moderated by its’ distance and by the binoculars sunscreen. Katrina watch as a fantastic cloud of smoke and assorted debris plumed upward in the evening sky. She smiled with satisfaction as she thought of the chaos that they had caused.
The workman’s entrance to Flaherty's bar was very much like the front, dirty, grimy and of no real significance; unless you knew what went on inside. The men hurried in and out fetching the boxes, and pilling them in the empty corner to await further transport.
Michael Collins rushed up to them but stopped a few feet away “Ugh” he gasped “What have you been swimming in?”
“Are friend Rendar forgot to mention the slime in the pipes, we were in such a rush to get back here there wasn’t any time to wash.” Maread protested.
Katrina fished something out of her pocket. It was the letter Rendar had given her, it was very crumpled but she tried to smooth it out before handing it to Collins along with the letter the strange women had given her. Michael took the letters and read the first smiling but frowned during the second.
At that moment a tall figure burst through the door, it was Eamonn De Valera, another of the IRAs’ leaders. “What is this rumour I hear of you working with the Germans to have a Communist revolution in Ireland!” he was furious, his face was a vivid crimson, and his eyes bulged from their sockets.
Collins gave De Valera a stony look before handing the letter from the German High Command. “It is all planned the uprising will force England to withdraw from Ireland forever.” De Valera shook his head in silent rage. He seemed incapable of putting his anger into words. “It is the perfect plan! In one weeks time German planes will fly over the trenches and drop thousands of leaflets on the trenches telling the Irish troops to come home. It will be signed by your good self and me.”
De Valera blanched “Have you not seen today’s papers? The Bolsheviks have killed the Czar, his wife even their children. There is chaos on the streets of Moscow. Hundreds of ordinary people are dead, these are people who the Bolsheviks are supposedly protecting.” He glared at Collins. Michael sat down, he looked weak and his hand shook as he realised his mistake.
“There is nothing we can do about it now, we must go ahead with it now. The Germans have already delivered on their side of the deal, as a matter of principle I must keep up mine.” He said gravely.
“Simply thank the Germans for their donation of weapons, but back out gracefully.” Eamonn insisted in a gentler tone, as he sensed Collins’ distress.
“You don’t know the Germans, it is an all or nothing deal. We either go ahead with the plan or we have to give it all back. Collins sighed and put his head in his hands.
At that moment the whole thing went straight to hell. The back of the apartment blew in, enveloping every one in a cloud of smoke and dust. “Stay were you are. Everyone here is under British detention.” Came a stark voice, over aloud speaker. Collins looked at the three girls.
“Anyone want to surrender?” he looked at De Valera, all four of them shook their heads. “Then lets take as many of them with us as we can.” He pulled a pistol from his belt and opened up on the squadron.
Maread, Katrina and Súin all grabbed a German luger from the table and began firing. It did not take the army long to react, they began returning fire. The Volunteers were unarmed, and Katrina saw two of them take hits. Reaching inside the nearest box, she threw several lugers and threw them at the Volunteers with the hope of arming them, even at that it made the odds only a shade less than ten-to-one.
Beside her, Maread saw Súin crumple. “Get out of here” Súin whispered to her, but she refused to leave, you did not abandon your fellows in battle. “Maread I…” Súin lay back perfectly still, no longer breathing.
Angry tears clouded Maread’s vision as she kept firing incredulously. She was standing protectively over Súin’s body. “I’ve just opened us an escape hatch.” He shouted over the din, gesturing towards a breach in the stone wall. He grabbed Mareads shoulders, and pulled her from the room.
A few miles away, in another safe house, Katrina was sitting beside Maread who was still crying over Súins death. Katrina looked around at the Volunteers they had the flushed faces and excited looks of men who had just survived their first fire fight. All of a sudden Maread stood up, and the look on her face shocked Katrina, she hadn’t seen it since the day Maread had signed them up for the IRA. “Come on I need to go for a walk to clear my head.” She said walking away without a backward glance.
Katrina struggled, kicked and fought to break free from the men restraining her. Maread stood in a corner talking with an enormously fat man, who rested in a chair than rather try and carry his own weight. Maread would not make eye contact with her; she stared at her shoes and kicked at a blotch on the stone floor.
Looking at her sister pleading with her eyes for understanding, Maread approached. Katrina spat in her face; Maread found in her sisters copper brown eyes only a look of utter contempt. “You sold us out, you sold me out!” Katrina spat.
“I didn’t, I had no choice. They said if I helped them they wouldn’t hurt you.” Maread protested. “We are going home now, come on.” She pleaded with her sister.
“Not so fast, you are free to leave.” Said the man. “However Miss Katrina is a rebel, and all rebels are wanted dead or alive. Personally I feel the only good rebel is a dead rebel, but that is just me.”
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her” Maread protested
“I lied.” Said the man smiling dryly. Maread was to incensed to think, she grabbed the luger from its’ holster at her side, and aimed it at the man. “A little trick the rebels taught you” he remarked snidely.
“They taught me a great many tricks. How to deal with traitors was one of them.” She replied firmly
“Have a care Maread I govern Ireland now.” He finished with a maddening air of superiority. Maread lunged at him, but stopped short as the slender tip of Aíne’s assassins’ knife was pressed against her artery, threatening her with unconsciousness; there was nothing to be gained by blacking out. She relaxed and felt the pressure relieved from her throat. She turned away from him; she would not fall apart, not here, not in front of the governor. “Take you money and leave.” he said throwing a wad of cash at her. “Oh it might interest you to know that I am not going to have Collins killed martyrdom would suit him too much” he remarked, almost as an after-thought.
Outside the prison, Maread broke down and wept. She felt the fruitlessness of her situation and the depression that threatened to over take her. It wasn’t her fault, she told herself, but her mind dodged its’ own defences and thrust again. It was her fault this whole mess was her fault. She realised now that her single act of betrayal had destroyed Ireland’s best chance of being free.
She waited outside all night in the rain to hear some news of what had become of her sister. The next day before the sun had even risen and when the birds were still asleep, a guard escorted her across the yard to the prison building. She was there to say goodbye and to ask her forgiveness; not that she deserved it.
While walking across the yard, a volley of shots rang out. The guard accompanying her turned “I am sorry it is too late.” He said without feeling. In a daze Maread turned and headed for the exit. Opening her bag and looking at the money, she saw only a ransom of freedom that was now stained with her sister’s blood.
A young aide came into the governor’s office “Sir I have news from London. It seems…” That was as far as he got, a slim hand came out of nowhere catching him across the throat. He fell, instantly paralysed. With one final effort he turned to look at the governor. A strange smile pulled at his superiors’ lips; a crimson stain was spreading across the perfect white of his shirt, and there in the centre was the tip of Aíne’s assassins’ knife.
“For the treachery of an empire, against an oppressed people. We were betrayed, we have been avenged.” Said Aínes’ smooth voice in his ear.
“Yes but it was so artistically done.” Was the governor’s last remark. His smile faded and the glow in his eyes did likewise, and the governor was dead.