Low Tide

The tide is coming in. And it's bringing something dirty with it.Gougane Barra. Lake road, forest, no signal, gate shut, cold hay. Light coming grey.
Last clean ground before home.
Tom Creed thought he was out. Too long out. GARDA ain't trained for this sort of thing. But when the man who was supposed to keep them safe burns every location - aunt's at 06:47, Roches flat at 07:56, Dunmanway at 09:35, Kealkill at 09:55 - Tom has to do the one thing he never does. Ask for help.
Maureen on a crate, tea towel knotted. Emma on the hay, rabbit tucked in. O'Leary two grand richer. Jess by the crack in the door, laptop open. Daniel hood down. Burke on the door, hands at ten and two.
They are clean because Gougane is clean. For now.
Three devices. Three tides. One city.
16:30 Cobh Industrial Estate. Container lock torn open by a pink clip bent fifteen times.
21:02 Odlums. A gas bottle valve torn shut by the same clip.
Noon June 14th, high tide, Páirc Uí Chaoimh. Centre circle, floodlights for cameras, world to see.
Miller and Torres inbound Shannon 20:30. Deasy, Lynch, O'Callaghan, Roche. County Hall, sixty-seven metres, two hundred and twenty feet, one hell of a drop, Tom holding the jacket edge.
Washington liaison Ray Grogan sold them out for ten grand to keep the old slip clear. Chain cut Monday, fresh black rubber, ten-minute walk to centre circle.
He thought Cork would stay neutral.
He was wrong.
The explosive finale to the Neutral Ground trilogy. For Maureen, who kept the tea towel knotted. For Emma, who kept the rabbit on the hay.