But the strength was sapped from his muscles, the darkness sucking him under.
It was Belmont who dragged Taylor away from Pierce. ‘Leave him be!’ he demanded, with enough derision in his voice to insult Taylor. Before Taylor could land any more blows, gunshots echoed across the parade ground. Belmont turned and ran towards the sounds as an explosion flared into the night sky. Taylor and Marsh were at his heels.
The duty officer’s whistle shrilled briefly against the sounds of gunshots and men’s raised voices. Mulraney had shot at two men, not knowing if the bullets had found their target. He didn’t want to be caught outside the walls and ran into the garrison through the swirling smoke and flame of the shattered gates. More explosions followed and he saw soldiers taking up firing positions across the parade ground. Darkness shrouded men’s ghostly images; the rain squall and smoke mingled, swallowing friend and foe. Gusts of wind would clear fifty yards and then sweep the curtain of rain closed again.
It was the chaos the Fenians wanted.
That and the armoury.
*
Radcliffe and Baxter burst from the officers’ mess into the conflagration. Bullets ricocheted across the stone walls and Radcliffe saw Mulraney clipped by a bullet in his arm. As Baxter shouted commands to his men Radcliffe ran forward and helped the fallen soldier into the cover of the barracks’ archways. But Malone and Leahy with half a dozen others had escaped from the turmoil and were running into the heart of the barrack complex. Leahy carried the Webley in one hand and his satchel of dynamite in the other. As the attackers dashed towards the armoury they turned a corner and faced a squad of Fusiliers whose rifles were already at their shoulders. The attackers stumbled to a halt. They were boxed in, confined to the passageway between the buildings.
‘Sweet Christ. They’re waiting for us!’ Leahy cursed and threw himself aside as the detachment’s officer gave the order to fire. The deafening volley smashed into the Fenians. Breathless and terrified, Malone dragged Leahy back a dozen paces to the safety of another building as a second volley shattered the air in the killing ground. A bullet had ripped through the arm of Malone’s coat and snagged flesh, which bled. There was no time to be concerned about a flesh wound. The others were dead. It was a miracle he and the dynamiter weren’t lying in the passageway. The two men made another fifty yards, desperately seeking out the others, whom they found fighting a ramshackle pitched battle against the soldiers, who had quickly reorganized themselves. There was little doubt the attack had failed.
‘Get yourself out of here! We’ve been betrayed,’ said Leahy, shoving Malone away into the darkness. ‘Find who it was and finish it!’ He turned to run into the darkness, but Malone grabbed his arm.
‘Cavan! Come on, man, for God’s sake!’
The dynamiter pulled free. ‘Get away with you. I’m for taking care of the bastards’ horses. At least that!’ And then he ran towards the stables.
*
Isolated pockets of intense fighting went on within the barracks’ grounds. Radcliffe stood over the wounded Mulraney, protecting him as attackers dodged in and out of the entwined smoke, mist and rain, wraiths swirling through the colonnade. Radcliffe levered the rounds into Mulraney’s rifle and brought down two of the Fenians. His other shots ricocheted into the stone walls. He fired the last of his rounds and brought down another attacker as he saw Belmont, his unbuttoned tunic exposing splashes of blood on his undershirt, pick up the duty officer’s revolver that lay next to the wounded man. Despite the mayhem and the bullets that still crackled through the air, Belmont calmly stood his ground, levelled the pistol and brought down an intruder who broke cover in an attempt to escape. But then the hammer fell on to empty chambers. Belmont was isolated and another of the attackers ran
It was Belmont who dragged Taylor away from Pierce. ‘Leave him be!’ he demanded, with enough derision in his voice to insult Taylor. Before Taylor could land any more blows, gunshots echoed across the parade ground. Belmont turned and ran towards the sounds as an explosion flared into the night sky. Taylor and Marsh were at his heels.
The duty officer’s whistle shrilled briefly against the sounds of gunshots and men’s raised voices. Mulraney had shot at two men, not knowing if the bullets had found their target. He didn’t want to be caught outside the walls and ran into the garrison through the swirling smoke and flame of the shattered gates. More explosions followed and he saw soldiers taking up firing positions across the parade ground. Darkness shrouded men’s ghostly images; the rain squall and smoke mingled, swallowing friend and foe. Gusts of wind would clear fifty yards and then sweep the curtain of rain closed again.
It was the chaos the Fenians wanted.
That and the armoury.
*
Radcliffe and Baxter burst from the officers’ mess into the conflagration. Bullets ricocheted across the stone walls and Radcliffe saw Mulraney clipped by a bullet in his arm. As Baxter shouted commands to his men Radcliffe ran forward and helped the fallen soldier into the cover of the barracks’ archways. But Malone and Leahy with half a dozen others had escaped from the turmoil and were running into the heart of the barrack complex. Leahy carried the Webley in one hand and his satchel of dynamite in the other. As the attackers dashed towards the armoury they turned a corner and faced a squad of Fusiliers whose rifles were already at their shoulders. The attackers stumbled to a halt. They were boxed in, confined to the passageway between the buildings.
‘Sweet Christ. They’re waiting for us!’ Leahy cursed and threw himself aside as the detachment’s officer gave the order to fire. The deafening volley smashed into the Fenians. Breathless and terrified, Malone dragged Leahy back a dozen paces to the safety of another building as a second volley shattered the air in the killing ground. A bullet had ripped through the arm of Malone’s coat and snagged flesh, which bled. There was no time to be concerned about a flesh wound. The others were dead. It was a miracle he and the dynamiter weren’t lying in the passageway. The two men made another fifty yards, desperately seeking out the others, whom they found fighting a ramshackle pitched battle against the soldiers, who had quickly reorganized themselves. There was little doubt the attack had failed.
‘Get yourself out of here! We’ve been betrayed,’ said Leahy, shoving Malone away into the darkness. ‘Find who it was and finish it!’ He turned to run into the darkness, but Malone grabbed his arm.
‘Cavan! Come on, man, for God’s sake!’
The dynamiter pulled free. ‘Get away with you. I’m for taking care of the bastards’ horses. At least that!’ And then he ran towards the stables.
*
Isolated pockets of intense fighting went on within the barracks’ grounds. Radcliffe stood over the wounded Mulraney, protecting him as attackers dodged in and out of the entwined smoke, mist and rain, wraiths swirling through the colonnade. Radcliffe levered the rounds into Mulraney’s rifle and brought down two of the Fenians. His other shots ricocheted into the stone walls. He fired the last of his rounds and brought down another attacker as he saw Belmont, his unbuttoned tunic exposing splashes of blood on his undershirt, pick up the duty officer’s revolver that lay next to the wounded man. Despite the mayhem and the bullets that still crackled through the air, Belmont calmly stood his ground, levelled the pistol and brought down an intruder who broke cover in an attempt to escape. But then the hammer fell on to empty chambers. Belmont was isolated and another of the attackers ran
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