Dead Man Running: A True Story of a Secret Agent's Escape from the IRA and MI5 Read Online Free PDF

squads, that was sufficient justification to inflict a terrible beating on a totally innocent young man.
     
    After a couple of minutes, I replied dourly, ‘Do you think I can ever forget?’
     
    Mike went on. ‘Listen, Marty, you’re out of Belfast, living at a secret location in England, difficult for the IRA to trace or find you. And it’s probably impossible for them to take any action against you while you’re living in an English city. They have no back-up here; they have no West Belfast to hide you. No, you’ve no need to worry now. But keep your head down to be on the safe side.’
     
    ‘ Don’t worry, I replied. ‘I always keep something under my pillow just in case. If I thought the IRA were going to burst into my house I would do what I had to do. I would answer to the law later.’
     
    ‘ But always remember,’ said Mike, ‘never do anything rash and always keep cool.’
     
    ‘ Don’t worry, I’m not daft,’ I replied.
     
    He smiled. ‘I never thought you were stupid,’ he said. ‘Not even when you were a kid. You were a damn good source, your handlers were always singing your praises. Remember what Detective Superintendent Ian Phoenix [head of the Northern Ireland police counter-surveillance unit] said of you?’
     
    ‘ Aye,’ I said.
     
    ‘ Phoenix said that Carol, your code-name, was certainly one of the SB’s best spies in Northern Ireland in 1990-91. Remember, Marty, they can’t take that away from you.’
     
    ‘ What do you think I should do then?’ I asked, hoping for some information from Mike.
     
    ‘ That’s up to you,’ he said. ‘I can’t make up your mind for you. It depends how angry and hurt you feel. But for now take my advice and do nothing. Go home and sleep on it. See how you feel in the morning; see if the anger subsides. It should do. Look on the bright side, Marty. You’re young, healthy, alive and fit; you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Forget Northern Ireland, the IRA, the RUC, British Intelligence and all that shit. Think of the future.’
     
    ‘ What future?’ I asked, still feeling despondent.
     
    ‘ Well, put it this way. Have you got a girlfriend?’
     
    ‘ Not really,’ I replied, ‘nothing serious. I tend to live on my own because of everything that happened in Belfast. I believe the IRA are still after me so I don’t like taking any risks. I’ve had scares but so far no one has actually tracked me down, thank God. None of the people I meet, none of the girls I date, none of my drinking mates have any idea of my background. I tell them nothing because I don’t want to cause any trouble or aggro for any innocents. I don’t like girls staying the night. You never know when they might start nosing around. Mike, Listen to me, since Northern Ireland I don’t trust anyone any more. And after what you’ve told me today I trust them even less.’
     
    ‘ I understand,’ he said. Changing the subject, he asked, ‘Do you ever see your wife Angie, or your nippers, Martin and Podraig?’
     
    ‘ No, never,’ I told him.
     
    Before we left the restaurant Mike gave me his telephone number and, in return, I gave him my mobile number, but not my ex-directory one. I knew, of course, that he had the number already but I was taking no chances with my home number. He was a member of the SB, he was friends with Felix and Mo, but now, more than ever, I could trust no one. I don’t what I would have done without a mobile phone because it was my link, my one link, with the rest of the world. I could give that number to anyone and no one could trace me. It also gave me a sense of security and, sometimes, I needed that. With the news that Mike had brought me, I needed that security more than ever.
     
    I walked him to the railway station and he boarded the next train north. I remembered his parting words; ‘Keep your head down and take care. And don’t do anything rash. If you want me at any time you know where you can find me.