“O’Brien,” the Chief answered.
“Sterling here.”
“Use only this number for communication, Sterling. Are you on a secure cell phone?”
“Yes, sir. I understand you will be our primary point of contact with Garda during our mission.”
“Aye,” O’Brien said. “The Commissioner briefed me on the mission.”
“I am glad you understand why we are here, Chief. What’s next?”
“Two British undercover operatives, James Pearson and Glenn Cross, live in your flat complex. They are involved in the same mission but otherwise not tied to Garda. Pearson is your liaison with me.”
“Understood, sir.”
“He is a musician. He plays at a local gay pub in the evenings.”
“Perfect, sir,” Wyl made notes to share with Rod.
“Wilde’s Pub. Check it out tomorrow night. He’ll be expecting you. Your husband, Rod, is the key. Introduce yourselves.”
“Will do, sir.”
“And Sterling, never talk about the mission in public. Keep the conversation to unrelated topics. Music, backgrounds, etc. You never can tell who is listening.”
“Yes, sir. Rod and I both received extensive training related to this mission. We are aware of being cautious in public.”
"Outstanding. Give Rod this number. Use it if needed, but use Pearson or Cross as your primary communication link with me.”
“Got it, Chief.”
“Best of luck to you both,” O’Brien disconnected the call.
Wyl tapped the screen on his phone to disconnect. “It begins.” He gazed at Rod. “We’re meeting our contact tomorrow tonight at Wilde’s Bar.”
“Talk to me,” Rod said.
“O’Brien gave us a cell phone number to use for contact with him. Add this number to your phone.” Rod took his phone and keyed in the number Wyl dictated. “Use it only when necessary. We have another contact we will communicate with on a regular basis.”
“Who?”
“A musician named James Pearson. British. Lives in this complex. He plays at Wilde’s Bar, a gay pub. We’ll go tonight for supper and a pint and introduce ourselves when he takes a break. He’s expecting us. You’ll be the primary point of contact with him.”
“Me?” Rod’s surprise came out in his facial expression and voice tone.
“You’re the musician, babe. You and he speak the same language. You are becoming friends with outsiders because of your common music background.”
For the first time, Rod realized the entire mission resembled a game with strict rules where losing may result in death.
“As far as the public is concerned, we’re a happy gay couple in Galway for a few weeks on our honeymoon.”
"Not much of a stretch,” Rod smiled. “Playing the honeymoon role won’t be a challenge, but…” Rod frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Wyl grasped Rod’s hand.
“Should we be armed?” Rod wondered what lay ahead.
“Not unless we encounter life-threatening situations. Guns can protect, but they can also draw attention. Gay honeymooners would not carry guns.”
Rod nodded. “I hoped for a no answer.”
“Let’s go check out the city. We can eat lunch while we’re out.”
“I’m eager to show you Ireland. Let’s start with the City Centre. Lots of shops and several pubs to choose from for a delicious meal.”
Wyl pulled Rod into a warm embrace. “Babe, Ireland will be fabulous because you’re here to show me. This is not how I pictured us traveling to a foreign country for the first time or our honeymoon, but I’m glad we’re here.”
Rod gazed into Wyl’s green eyes. “There is no place I would rather be than with you. Now grab your jacket, and let’s go.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
After lunch on Wednesday, Ailbe’s office phone rang. He glanced at the display. Dr. Riordan. The university president funneled information through one of the deans. This must be important. He cleared his throat and answered the call. “Dr. MacGowan.”
“Dr. MacGowan, President Riordan requests your presence in his office,” Dr. Riordan’s secretary said.
“May I ask what time?”
“Now would be ideal.”
