Now, come mornin ah make the discovery that Fiona requires less sleep than ah do, as she’s already bin up n cleaned the fish oot ay the sink n replaced ma toothpaste wi face cream. Ah’m pleased tae report that ah’m still no shavin, so ah wis spared whatever she put in ma kit. But aw this muckin’s startin tae git oan ma nerves sum. We took a drive tae the shops n Fiona bought new knickers n ah bought new "toiletries" (as the sign said).
Trevor gits a call fae one ay the blokes e’s bin working wi - "Just" mebbe – tellin im tae gae tae The Burly Nag. Now, ah kent the Nag fir being no the sorta place ye bring yer gel tae. The Nag’s a tavern awright, but it’s doon along the docks, n no such a safe place after dark. Ah told Fiona tae stay back as it wasnae the sort ay place she’d be seen in, n she agreed, provin miracles do happen.
Ah head oot tae the bar a bit early, hopin tae git thair before Trevor. Ah’m still nae sure if it’s lucky ah did. Ah wis jist havin a pint at the bar win ah see the sailors Fiona wis friendly wi. They wis eyin me, makin comments I couldnae catch n ah wis ignorin them. But they think they’re hard. N so Carl comes over tae me (Carl bein the one Fiona wis most friendly wi - Seems e recognized me fae that day at the docks) n starts accusin me ay aw manner ay depravity. Ah did wit wis only fair. Ah accused im ay bein English – n rightfully so. Now ah ask ye, what manner ay English eejit picks a fight wi a Scotsman in Port Glasgae? E tried tae hit me n missed clean. E mebbe hit me the second time, but ah caught im a good one tae the gut, n aw ah had tae dae wis stand back as e fell. Meanwhile, off tae the right thair’s a group ay guys, aboot four, in the company ay one Peter Baggs – part ay the new Russian element hangin round Flinn’s staff n aw. So the guys pull Carl back n oot ay the way, n Baggs asks if Carl could buy me a pint tae apologize. N now ah know the answer tae the question: an English eejit surrounded by babysitters is dumb enough tae pick a fight wi a Scotsman in a local pub. Seems Baggs n his associates were responsible fir keepin a pub full ay sailors oot ay trouble.
Ah accepted the pint jist as Trevor showed up, n moved doon tae the end ay the bar whair e wis sittin. We talked a bit, aboot fitba mostly, n soon enough ah told im aboot the fight n how the other "concerned patrons" made sure it didnae gae any further than those few punches. Trevor nodded like e understood, n soon enough went off tae talk tae Just n aw.
Just is sittin wi a guy called Fuller, who explains tae Trevor that e’s now responsible fer keepin the peace in the pub, keepin the sailors (the place wis crawling wi them) out ay trouble. E’s told tae pick a group n sort ay insinuate himself intae their company. Trevor, whose new name is Joker, gits the idea n goes off tae dae his job. So who does e pick but Carl n aw?
Ah paid the bartender n kippered off, takin the scenic route back up tae Falkirk, which is whair ah remember the flat bein…
In ma absence, Trevor plays nurse tae these three sailors fir the rest ay the evenin, finally walks them back tae the boat (Le Scottish Cargo Ship, Sheila later told me it wis called). E realizes as they approach the boat that e’s lost Carl n so has tae gae back n find im, even though the others told Joker/Trevor that Carl wis callin is bird. English. Mmphm.
As it turns oot, Carl wis indeed callin is gel, who, it turns oot, is still Fiona. Carl wants tae see Fiona, and ah could tell by the way Fiona told me the story that Fiona wanted tae kill Carl. Ah don’t know if that had any bearing, but she offered tae gae oot tae The Burly Nag in a taxi n pick im up and bring im back tae the flat. Now ah ask ye, what happened tae the nice gel who agreed the Nag wis nae place fir the likes ay her? This nice gel rings me up n tells me ah’ve got tae find another place tae stay as she’s bringin Carl back tae the flat n "If it’s not too much trouble would you please clear your things away so that Carl doesn’t become suspicious?" So as ah drive intae Falkirk tae gather ma crap n wait fir Trevor tae git back so ah have somewhair tae sleep, Fiona gits a cab oot tae the Nag.
Unfortunately, aboot the same time oot in Port Glasgae, Joker/Trevor has retrieved Carl fae the phone box, given im a bit ay sleep incentive, n carried Carl’s half-conscious body up the gangway ay Le Scottish Cargo Ship n delivered it tae the guy oan watch duty. Joker/Trevor is pleased that e’s done is job n can collect is money fir it, nae knowing that Fiona’s oan her way.
So Joker/Trevor goes back tae the Nag tae collect is pay, n sits tae have a pint since e’s "off duty" now. This is aboot the same time Fiona is dropped off by the taxi. The driver knew enough tae leave. Fiona dinnae. She stood aboot the front ay the pub, lookin in the windows fir Carl.
Now, ah’ve got tae take a moment here tae explain tae ye jist what Fiona looks like. She’s got brown hair n brown eyes, n, well, she looks like Finishing School, ye ken? Trevor seems tae think she looks like Elizabeth Hurley, but ah don’t see it. But mebbe it helps ye tae git an idea how oot ay place Fiona looked, stickin her heid intae the Nag like that.
Naturally, this attracted some attention, though aw that wis left in the pub wis Just, Fuller, Joker/Trevor and the barkeep. So Fuller waved her in, askin what she wis doin so far fae hers n she wis left tae tellin Fuller aboot how she wis lookin fir Carl. Long story short, it’s aboot the same as in that movie whair the woman says "That’s the last time I go on a computer date". To be fair, Fiona did a much better job ay the whole thing, but Fuller dinnae buy it aw the same n gave Joker/Trevor the signal tae give Fiona a one-way ride back home. The fact that Trevor dinnae have a car and had tae borrow Fuller’s Jag wouldhae been much funnier had it nae been Fiona that wis tae be the passenger. I suppose we were lucky enough that Fuller decided tae let Trevor dae the job n not ask Just.
So Joker/Trevor packs Fiona off in Fuller’s car. Somehow ah’m relieved tae know Trevor had nae intention whatever ay killin Fiona. But ah’m not sae pleased that Fiona called me tae tell im what tae do.
When she phones ah’m in front of his, waitin fir im tae get back, sound asleep in MA CAR. Ah’m summat surprised the polis havenae bothered wi me, come tae think ay it, me wi ma scraggly appearance n beer breath snorin away in the Jag, but ah suppose they have better things tae dae.
Ah tell Fiona tae put Trevor oan the phone n ask im whair e is. E makes a noise like coughing n spitting that ends wi "Lane". Ah point oot that e’s on CuClaighrith Lane n tell im tae continue along fir seven miles, then turn north tae the sea n ah’ll meet im ay the cliffs – as good a place as any tae drop a body from.
Ah phone Base tae apprise them ay the situation n request a dead body double fir Fiona. They tell me it’s gaunna take some time. Ah tell them they’ll have tae find one quick before ah go n make one. More cell phone calls between Trevor n masel, n in the end ah go tae meet the two ay them at the cliffs. Trevor kippers off in Fuller’s car n Fiona n masel follow a short time after.
When we get back tae the street where flat is in Falkirk, Fiona slithers off the seat ay MA CAR – which has tinted windows, mind – tae avoid bein seen by the gent that’s parked in front ay Trevor’s flat (up tae this point, it wis convenient tae have our flats facin one another). With no other options, ah tell Fiona ah’m takin her tae mine. After some time, she finally understands that ah’m takin her tae ma home, n that ah do, in fact, have one.
We get back to mine jist as the sun’s comin up – as much as it does in Scotland, anyway – and get a few hours sleep before ah git the call fae Base sayin they’ve got a body. We make arrangements tae pick it up doon the road tae old steel mill number 812 n ah ask if they’ve got any other members (live) tae add tae our party as we’ve lost Fiona n ma presence is suspect as well.
They tell me no.
Ah make other plans.
Ah git Fiona oot ay the spare room n pack her intae MA CAR fir a short trip up the road tae a nice little castle keep ah know.
We find the proprietor, Corey Fraser, who wis so deeply wronged by the American Team, hard at work oan the interior ay his new barn. As e seems tae have hit a bad patch, n we are short-handed, ah offer this giant a job. E’s a bit taken aback, as ye might imagine, me offerin the Scottish revolutionary a post at MI-6. E starts gaun off in gaedligh, unaware that Fiona’s followin every word, n ah don’t tell im. In the end, when e understands such a job would give im most ay his life back wi the added bonus ay savin the world now n then, e agrees. We hang aboot fir a few hours, checkin up oan the repairs e’s made in the aftermath of SPOATS attacks, n leave at the appropriate time tae fetch Fiona’s dead double.
Oan the car radio we hear the news that Vicat Wryter, playright husband of Mathilde Vaughn, has been murdered. Had is throat slashed at a theater in London. We are, therefore, nae so surprised when Trevor phones tae tell ays that e’s gaunna go back tae the Nag because thair’s been "a crisis".
Ah’m strangely unaffected by the necessity ay droppin Fiona’s look-alike over the cliffs. The body makes a very satisfying crunch oan some rocks before splashing intae the sea. Ah take the loaner car doon tae the train station whair Fiona (alive) is waitin fir me in MA CAR n phone in tae Base tae tell them whair ah’ve left the loaner. They ask me whair can ah receive a photo fax n ah tell them back at mine n ah’ll call them when we get thair.
We start back in the direction ay Dunmore when Trevor calls tae tell us e’s been assigned tae watch the docks and act all guard-like as Le Scottish Cargo Ship is makin a hasty departure. Ah adjust our course fir Port Glasgae. Base calls n wants tae know when ah can receive the fax. Bloody hell. (shite, ah’ve been wi Fiona fir too long, ah can see). We pull off tae a local copy shop tae wait fir a fax. Base wants a name tae go wi the face in the picture. Ah’ve got them oan the phone when it comes in, n tell them right off the man’s Charles Katana, one ay the Americans. Ah make a mental note tae call Sheila, see if she knows anything aboot what Katana’s up tae.
Back in the car, Trevor calls tae tell ays thair’s been trucks fae Dillion Pharmaceuticals that have left lookin light, and trucks loadin heavy water onto Le Sco—forget it - onto the damned boat.
Ah phone Base. Tell them ah want a helicopter – no grenade launcher this time, fir which they sound relieved. Fiona’s in the passenger seat wi aw sorts ay requirements fir the chopper, so ah pass the phone tae her. We arrange to pick up the ride in Corey’s field, n luckily get there before it does, since Corey – as ye might imagine – goes ape shit (as Sheila would say) when e sees the silent copter land in is field. We try tae calm im down, tell im it’s fir ays, but e doesnae stop cursin until we tell im tae get oan.
E jumps oan the helicopter n smashes is heid first thing. We mebbe shouldhae given im "Giant" as a code name.
The blokes inside the helicopter take the time tae explain each little blip n spot n after some time we pick up the signature fir the boat. Trevor chooses this moment tae ring ma cell (we have effectively shut Fiona oot ay the loop, but she hasnae caught oan yet) n the flight crew patches it through fir ays.
Trevor tells ays the boat has left (we are nae surprised by this) n that Llewelyn Flinn wis thair himself tae see it off, though e dinnae leave the limo. Flinn, Trevor tells ays, is oan is way tae the Bahamas, whair Keene Elliott has himself an island. One ay the other members ay Flinn’s Crew has told Trevor that if e plays is cards right n Fiona’s body washes up, Trevor may get tae go tae the Bahamas as well. E wants tae know if e should. Ah tell im we’ll think oan it n switch im off.
We track the boat until a twin signature appears jist aft ay it, which could likely be the missing sub. But as we’re low on fuel, we’ll have tae let the surveillance planes keep track, n we head back.
Again it’s some horrible hour ay the mornin when we get back home, but ah call Base anyway n ask fir an update. The sub has left, our job should be done. They give me the "stand by stand by" routine.
Ah’m no good at stand by, so ah slept a bit instead. Then took the drive back tae Falkirk tae clear Fiona’s things fae the flat. Ah get back tae mine – whair Fiona has strangely not moved anything, nor drawn mustaches n fangs oan the pictures ay ma gel – n try tae sleep some more.
Phone wakes me up, n ah make a mental note tae remind Base of FIONA’s number. Ah’m told tae assemble the group n aw our stuff n get tae Hereford. We’re going oan loan. Ah gather ma things n wake Fiona, put the stuff in MA CAR n call Trevor. E’s all whiny aboot missin the chance tae get tae the Bahamas, tae get in close tae Flinn. But ah’m oan tae Trevor by now, n ah tell im these are our ORDERS. E understands that n agrees tae meet us at Hereford. Ah call Corey n tell im aw the same, then call back tae base tae warn them tae expect a giant, long-haired Scotsman, n have tae explain it’s nae me ah’m talkin aboot as ah’m nae so very tall.
We pull up tae the gate at Hereford, whair the guard is givin a hard time tae our new pal, Corey. Seems they dinnae like the tank e drove up in. Ah get oot ah MA CAR, which Fiona now has tae drive, n flash some ID’s at the guards, tell them the long-hair’s wi ays. They snap tae n wave us in, tell us we’re tae depart fae runway twelve. Ah don’t know whair that is, but we gae oan anyway.
We take a flight across the Atlantic, listen tae Trevor whine aboot the Bahamas, remark upon the weapons that Corey has brought – swords – n use one tae dub im wi is new code name: Claymore.
Hours later we arrive oan American soil, somewhere in Virginia whair, it appears, no one else ever goes. We’re packed intae a van n driven tae a pier whair we embark upon a vessel called the Southern Star. We make the acquaintance of Chief Luke Devereaux and Commander Waverly, and ah am pleased tae see ma old compatriot Maggie Malone along on the trip. The Chief briefs us oan what they’re workin oan, during the course ay which e says they’ve got a team operating up near the US-Canadian border. Shite. Ah forgot tae call Sheila. This ah say out loud. Chief wants tae know why ah’d call her. Seems they dinnae know exactly who wis operating at the border, n ah tell im Sheila might know. E says they’ll put the call through after the brief.
Fiona n ah listen tae all they’ve got tae tell us n we give back what we know. Corey snores.
The Southern Star is bound fir the Bahamas, hopin tae intercept the sub which they think is oan its way doon thair. The Americans are ay the opinion the cargo vessel loaded wi drugs will put intae the St. Lawrence seaway (which, they tell me, is at that same US-Canadian border) but that the sub can’t make that trip, so will have tae split off. No one seems tae care aboot the drugs, only the sub, so at least we are in agreement.
When we’re done wi the brief n aw, ah make ma way up tae the communications room n put in a call tae Sheila. It’s now aboot three a.m., local time where ah am – which feels like four days since we were oot at Corey’s touring the barn. Ah reckon that makes it aboot ten p.m. in Paris, which is not too late tae call Sheila, but she sounds aw slurry when she answers the phone, like she’s been sleeping or drinking or summat. After a time she tells me it’s her team up at the St. Lawrence Seaway n that she’s got Rossi, Chuck, and Paris wi her. Seems they’re interested in the drugs. Ah tell her the shipment has left Scotland, ah’m in her time zone, n ah’ll call her after ah’ve had some sleep. N a shave. Ah feel aw sorts ay messy wi aw these clean-shaven military types aboot. But they’ve got some damned good coffee, ah’ll tell ye that. Strong. Black. Sloshing in ma cup tae keep time wi the sloshing ay the boat. Back n forth. Back n forth. Back n forth.
Ah’m grateful tae make it tae the head jist in time…