Agent Histories: Liam and Dick

He woke.

Confused was too specific a description. He didn't know where, or when, or why, certainly, but he also didn't care. Numb was perhaps more accurate.

A physical self-diagnostic seemed the best course of action. Some pain, nothing unmanageable. Cold, borderline dangerous. Wet, mainly.

He opened his eyes. Night. Sand. Rocks. Litter.

Could he move? Barely. Probably shouldn't. Broken ribs. Broken leg. Need a splint.

He forced himself to sit up and look around for a bit of wood: found one, tied it to his shin. That would do for now.

He froze, seeing his target: large, armed, moving along the beach, illuminated in the moonlight. He knew he was hidden among the flotsam and jetsam, but his target wasn't.

Gun. Still loaded, two shots fired. Wet, but fireable.

Kid.

Damn. Civilian didn't ring a bell of concern, but child did. What was some kid doing wandering around out here--wherever here was--irrelevant--in the middle of the night?

He heaved himself on hands and knees, ignored the pain in his body, and plotted a course to put himself between his target and the Kid.

Okay, this was the first time Liam actually understood what parents meant when they told their children ‘Don’t go out at night, it’s too dangerous.’ Until now he never cared whether it was ‘dangerous’ at night or not, this was the south of Ireland, for Christ’s sake, the only dangerous thing happening here was being chased by a cow.
Liam was just on his way to the tiny Inn he was staying when he heard gun shots – really peculiar, since the Irish normally handled everything with their fists- and then he saw a man in a dark coat turning towards him, armed. He was certainly not a police officer, they didn’t have those kind of guns. Before Liam knew what was happening another man appeared in front him, also with a gun. If the circumstances would have been a little different Liam would probably get excited about the fact that there were actually people in this lame area who carried real weapons with them…but right at this moment he had other things on his mind. Like, how to avoid not getting shot, and how to avoid that the man in front of him wouldn’t get shot either. Before he could think of anything another shot was fired and Liam held his breath, expecting the man in front of him to fall down any second, but it was in fact the other guy who collapsed, lying lifeless on the sand.

“Holy St. Patrick…”, Liam mumbled, but he immediately startled as the tall guy turned around, looking at him with his piercing blue eyes.

“What is this place?”

Liam raised his eyebrows. “Ahem…what?”

“Where am I?”

“Gyleen, sir.”

“Where?”

“Gyleen, outside of Cork.”

The man stared at him bewildered. “What country is this?”

Okay, that guy must be joking!
But he did NOT look like he was joking….

“Ireland, sir.”

The man was quiet for a moment. Something was wrong with him, and it was not only the fact that he just shot someone.

Liam looked at the dead man. “Who was that? And what is going on?”

The other man didn’t answer.

Liam cleared his throat. “Ahem…thank you for saving-“

“Go home, kid, this is no playground”, he interrupted him coldly.

“Well, I’m actually away from home and-“ He suddenly noticed that the man was bleeding on his chest and his knees. “Sir, I think you need to see a doctor.”

“I have to go!” He turned around, walking with a limp.

Liam followed him. “Do you have a place to go?” He knew it was unnecessary to ask him that since the guy obviously didn’t even know what country this was.

“No.”

“I’m staying at an Inn for tonight, it’s not far from here. I know I’m not a doctor but I have bandages and medicine and-“

“Listen”, the man stopped walking for a moment. “Just go home to your family and stay there.”

“I left my grandparents’ home a week ago, I’m on my way to Dublin.”

“Whatever, just-“ He held his breath for a second as the pain increased, then slowly sat down. “Damn!”

Liam quickly took off his shirt, rolled it up and pressed it against the man’s bleeding chest.

“Hold on to this and make sure you’re not losing too much blood. I’ll take you to the Inn where I can take a closer look at your wounds. I don’t know where the doctor in this town is, but I can find it out as soon as we’re at the Inn. Can you stand up? What about your level of oxygen? Are you-“

The man coughed. “Just…help me up and stop talking.”

“Okay, okay!” Liam carefully put his arms around him. It was not easy helping him up since he was much taller and heavier than him, but he somehow managed it.

“What about the dead guy?”

“We leave him there to rot.”

“They will probably look for you. Although you can’t really rely on the police here, they are a joke”, Liam said. “I’m Liam, by the way, Liam O’Doherty. I hope you don’t mind my accent, most people outside of Ireland can’t really understand me.”

The older man coughed again. “Good to know I’m not the only one…”

"They won't be able to trace those rounds," he assured the kid, even if part of him wished that some authorities would find him--but significantly higher up than the boys in blue from Backwater, Ireland--so he could get some answers. But that was a stupid wish: unnecessary hassle.

To his credit, the kid was stronger than he looked, and he knew he did need help. But the kid sure as hell talked a lot. He was able to tune him out until he dropped the bomb:

"What's your name, then?"

He stopped. Actually stopped, so that the kid, wondering why they had no more forward momentum, looked up at him quizzically.

He did not know. He did not know his name.

And he did not like not knowing. He looked around him. A lonely sign on a darkened pub advertised Spotted Dick and Guinness for £1, but the one was faded.

"Pound," he managed, through gritted teeth, because it sounded legitimate to him. "Dick Pound."

Silence.

"Is...that some kind of joke?" the Kid pressed, worriedly.

Dick just stared at him.

"Okay, okay, sorry. Here, the place I'm staying at is just here. Can you make it up the stairs?"

"Don't have much choice." He actually felt himself fading. "Where is your room?"

"Up the stairs..."

"Where exactly?"

"Uh. The southwest corner. Why?"

"Does it have a window?"

"Yes."

"Looking to the south?"

"Yes!"

"Okay. What did you say the name of this town was?"

"Gyleen."

"Right, fine." Dick was sure the dead man hadn't had any friends, otherwise they would have heard from them by now. And the location and--he sniffed at the air--the weather would keep the body hidden for probably a few days.

So there was time. He could probably even sleep for a few hours.

He followed the boy--was even dragged by him--still yammering away, though at a reduced volume because of the late hour--up the stairs. No one was about in the tavern, though he could hear a radio on quietly in the owner's room downstairs. There was an old flintlock rifle above the bar, but it was in disrepair, unfireable.

The boy took him up two flights of stairs to the top floor, and hastily unlocked his door. The room was tiny, and Dick set himself in the armchair by the window. He immediately began unloading his gear, removing everything with a strange mixture of comfort and surprise.

Handgun. He kept by him. Assault rifle. Field stripped to dry. Chest armor. Fat lot of good that had done. He threw it in the corner. Nondescript, probably military-issue tac jacket, with ammo, matches, knife, first aid supplies. Plain black T-shirt. Three knives, hidden in cunning places. Cargo pants, soaked, the pockets full of other useful odds and ends. No identification. A passport that said he was English, from London, and that his name was John Smith. Plain black socks and white underwear.

"Where did you get all these?" the kid asked, poking at the extensive tattooing over his body.

"Tattoo shop. Do you know how to stitch a wound?" His teeth were chattering faintly.

"No, sir!"

"Do you know how to stitch?"

"...Yes?"

"Good, come here."

"Mr. Pound, maybe I should get the fire going..."

"No, I don't want it well lit in here. Plus, cold slows down the blood."

The kid was looking at him like he was insane. Which, in all fairness, was absolutely true. Demented, amnesiac certainly, that qualified as in-sane, did it not?

And did he just see movement outside?

Liam was just about to get started on Dick’s wounds when the older man flinched.

“I’m sorry, did I-“

“There’s something outside!” Dick got up heavily and walked to the window.

“Sir, I think you should sit down.”

Dick didn’t respond, he kept looking out of the window, waiting for something to move but nothing happened. When he started to feel a little dizzy- though he wouldn’t admit it to the boy- he went back to the chair, his eyes still fixed on the window.

“So, what are you?” Liam took the liberty to ask him directly after most of the room’s floor was covered with various weapons, most of them he had only seen in books. “I guess you’re not a teacher?” He studied his face for any sign of emotion. Liam wasn’t sure but for a brief moment Dick had actually looked confused, as if he didn’t know the answer either.

“How old are you?”, Dick asked, avoiding Liam’s question.

“Fifteen.”

“Don’t you have school or something?”

“I just graduated.”

Dick stared at him in disbelief. “At fifteen?”

“Yes, sir.” Liam carefully started to fix the wound on his chest, trying not to mess anything up.

“And now you ran from home?”

“Not exactly. I told my grandparents I was going to attend a university in the US, so they think I’m on my way to America right now. They have no idea that I don’t intend to waste years of my life among ignorant college students…” Liam paused for a second to check if he was done stitching the first wound, then started on another one. “I definitely have to leave Ireland, there’s nothing you can do here except farming and fishing. I thought of going to England, London maybe. At least a bigger city…” He looked up to the older man. “You still haven’t told me what your profession is.”

Dick didn't show any facial expression. “Look, kid, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay…” Liam managed to actually be quiet for the time he stitched the remaining wounds, but he had a very hard time not bombarding the man with all his questions. Dick didn’t seem the kind of guy who liked to talk a lot, he actually seemed like someone who would point a gun at you if you wouldn’t shut up, and that man had loads of weapons, so Liam didn’t want to challenge him. After he was done Liam got up to wash his hands. When he came out of the bathroom he saw Dick already standing at the window again.

“You really shouldn’t get up all the time, sir.”

“Stop calling me ‘sir’, that sounds like I’m an 80-year old English duke.”

“Okay.” Liam nodded. “I’m going downstairs to get you something to eat and drink. You can use the bed, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” He was just about to walk out the door when he turned around again. “Oh, is there anything specific you can’t eat? Any allergies? Are you lactose-intolerant? Are you Jewish and can only eat kosher? Are you a vegetarian? Not that you look like one but-“

“Just get whatever you can find”, Dick said, a bit impatiently.

“Okay, sir, ahem, Mr. Pound…” Liam left the room quickly and returned half an hour later with a tray. “I’m sorry in case you wanted any alcoholic drinks, they wouldn’t sell me any, and besides, I don’t think that you should drink-“ He stopped talking when he saw Dick, sitting in the chair, his arms crossed, staring at him warily, almost hostile.

“Who are you?”

“Ahem…sorry?”

“Who are you working for?”

“What?”

Dick held up Liam’s sketchbook. “So, again, who are you?”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to take someone else’s things!” Liam snatched the book from him, pressing it against his chest as if it was the most valuable possession he owned. “Those are just some sketches…”

“Some sketches?” Dick raised his eyebrows. “Tell me, kid, what 15-year old draws sketches of bombs and other obviously dangerous things that can kill people?”

“Well, actually I was 12 when I-“

“Who the hell are you working for?”

“Nobody”, Liam replied. “And I guess you have already checked every corner of the room and my bag to see if I was hiding something, and then you probably saw that there’s nothing to find, so…”

“The book is more than enough.”
“More than enough what? I told you they are harmless sketches…Well, the term ‘harmless’ isn’t that appropriate for it but I swear I’m not working for anyone, and nobody knows about this book.”

Dick still looked at him suspiciously. “So you’re telling me that you do this for fun? Drawing those sketches?”

“Technically I draw them in order to have a plan before I actually start-“

“Start what?”

“Ahem…before I start building them.” Liam cleared his throat. He didn’t really want to know what the older man was thinking of him right now.

“You build the things you draw?”

“Well, I tried some here and there, but I couldn’t really carry on with the work because my grandparents would have freaked if they saw me building a bomb or something like that. They are catholic, you know, they would probably think I’m possessed by the devil or something…”

There was an awkward silence before Dick finally said something. “You’re weird…”

“You’re not the first one who said that.”

“But your book…if you can actually build the things you draw…do you have any idea how useful that is?”

“Well, I guess…” Liam went back to his bag to see if Dick had taken anything else out.

“Are you checking if I stole your precious underwear?” Dick finally sounded more sarcastic than warily. “No offence, but they wouldn’t fit me anyway.”

Liam blushed, carefully putting his sketchbook back, then he handed him the tray. “Here’s your dinner.”

Dick stared at the food as if it was poisoned. “What’s that?”

“Today’s specialty.” Liam grinned. “Sheep giblets.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“You made it perfectly clear that you’re not picky about your food, so enjoy.”

Dick ate the food, anyway. He needed his strength.

"What time is it?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"Nearly two in the morning. Why?"

"Get some rest. I'll watch." His clothes were drying, and he slowly dressed himself.

"Watch?"

"The television," Dick snapped.

"But--"

"I know, kid, Christ. I meant watch the guy that's creeping around outside. You see him? No, don't look out like that, keep your head down."

Liam peeked out the window. "I don't...hey! There! I see him!"

Dick nodded and turned back to his assault rifle and began to reassemble it. "I don't think they know which room we're in yet, otherwise we..."

"Look, Mr. Pound, there's another one!" Liam exclaimed, in his excitement standing up and pointing, his face framed and well-lit in the window.

"Get down!" Dick cried, recognizing the trick--and the danger--at once, and tackled the kid to the ground just as a bullet shattered the window, followed by an auto burst. He threw his arm up to cover the kid's head as glass and bits of wall rained down on them.

"Okay, we've got to get out of here," Dick barked, gathering up his gear, as the shooter stopped to reload. "Keep your head down this time, and get your notebooks!"

"What? Why? What have I done? What does he want?"

"He's seen your face, and you've seen him. You're coming with me."

Dick led the way down the narrow stairs. The landlady poked her head out her door, screaming and hollering, just one of the shooters burst down the front door. Dick fired, but the handgun round bounced off his chest armor, and the man fired back.

Ducking down, Dick pushed the kid behind him toward the kitchen, where he had seen a door leading to the outside. There was a beat up old Sunday-driving car in the garden.

"Get in!" Dick yelled, still laying down cover fire. He dumped his gear in the back, took a moment to wrench the license plate off, and then assumed the driver's seat.

"Ever fired one of these before?" Dick asked the kid as he handed him his rifle.

"No, sir!"

"Well, it's time you learned."

There were two things Liam always wanted to do but was pretty sure it wouldn’t happen in this life:
1) Dating Brigitte Bardot
2) Being involved in a situation that required him to actually use a real gun (and that excluded duck hunting!)
Now he found himself to be in the latter one, however, he had to overthink this one because sitting in a stolen car with a guy who drove like crazy while being chased by other guys who were heavily armed did not seem that tempting anymore.
Liam stared at the rifle Dick had handed him. “Dammit…why can’t it be Brigitte?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Liam sighed while he scrutinized the rifle carefully. He needed to understand how the rifle was constructed in order to get a feeling for it.

“As soon as they get too close to us you shoot, got it?” Dick shot him a side-glance. “I gave you that thing to use it, not to stare at it!”

“I know, I just needed to see how it is built.”

Dick seemed confused for a moment, but he didn’t have time to be confused. “You saw it, now use it.”

“See, the mechanism of-“

“Damn, they’re catching up!” Dick saw the other car in the rear-mirror. “Get ready!”

“What?!” Liam’s voice suddenly got so high that he sounded like a girl.

“If you want to make it out here alive you’ve got to bloody shoot, kid!”

“I don’t know who the hell you are but you certainly must have done something wrong otherwise those guys wouldn’t try to kill you!”

“Well, too late now…” Dick hit the accelerator harder but the car was definitely not built for any purpose that included fast driving. “This thing is a piece of junk!”

“Technically it’s a stolen piece of junk since you…oh God!” Liam held his breath when the other car appeared next to them, two enormous rifles pointing at them.

“Get down!”, Dick yelled, and the second Liam ducked his head a bullet crashed through the window.

“Get up!”

“What? I thought I-“
“Now!”

Liam lifted his head a little and saw that the others were still next to them. He was just about to duck again when Dick barked “Shoot!”, and Liam quickly took the rifle- with shaking hands though-looked through the telescopic sight and pulled the trigger. He tried not to flinch when he shot because he knew that he would definitely miss his target if he flinched too much. But he didn’t miss. For the first time in his life he shot someone, and the weird thing was, he didn’t really feel bad about it. Well, he didn’t feel bad about it because he knew they were a danger to them, not because he had suddenly become a sociopath.

“I think I got him”, Liam said, turning to Dick.

“Good, two more to go.”

Liam didn’t have much time to think about it because another bullet shattered through the window.
“Seriously, what is their problem?” He hoped Dick could give him an answer- after all, it was him they were after- but once again Dick didn’t say anything.

“You know, maybe you should-“

“Shut up and shoot!”

“Okay!” Liam turned to the window and aimed for the guy next to the driver. Without hesitating too long and ignoring the countless moral questions that popped up in his head, Liam shot three times in a row, and saw how the shooter next to the driver stopped moving.

“Damn!” Dick veered the car sharply to the left into a field, otherwise he would have crashed right into a barn. They had already left the small town and were in the middle of nowhere, deep in the countryside. He quickly checked in the rear-mirror to see how far the other car was behind.

“Cow!”, Liam yelled.

“What?! Oh…shit!” Dick quickly turned the steering wheel and just barely managed to pass the cow without hitting it.

“That- was- close—“ Liam’s heart was racing, then he slowly turned his face to Dick who kept staring straight ahead, hoping not to bump into another cow, or sheep or any other stupid animal that were obviously running around everywhere in the Irish countryside. Not to mention the fact that there was still a guy out there who tried to kill them.

“Okay, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but it would be really helpful to know why those guys are after you.”

Silence.

“Seriously, I want to know.”

Silence.

“Okay…” For as moment Liam pretended he didn’t care, but then he pointed the rifle at Dick. “You tell me what the hell they want from you!”

“You’re serious?” Dick tried not to laugh, but the picture of the kid threatening him with a gun was kind of ironic.

“Tell me!”

“Kid, put it down.”

“No. You tell me first.”

“Put the rifle down, kid!”

“No! Not unless you tell me-“ He paused for a moment because he had a sneezing attack. “Excuse me, I’m allergic to some grass out here…”

Dick just stared at him. He didn’t even bother taking away the rifle.

“Anyway…” Liam cleared his throat. “Tell me why they are after you. I won’t shut up until-“

“I kill you?”

“Well, actually I meant until you tell me.”

Dick shook his head. “I don’t know…”, he grumbled.

“You don’t know what?”

“What the hell they want from me! Can you shut up now?”

“No, because that’s rubbish! How can you not know?”

“I don’t know why I don’t know it!”

“What? I’m confused now…” Liam looked at the older man. “So you’re saying that you don’t know why you don’t know that those guys are after you?”

Dick didn’t respond, he just focused on the road- or on the field.

“Wow…” Liam stared at the rifle on his lap. “You’re even more messed up than I thought you were.”