Sowerbutt's Parcel

Brendan Bracken frowned. “I need you or your men to escort a certain gentleman from the green fields of Hertfordshire to Dublin in the next couple of days. Fishguard and then ferry across to Rosslare is the shortest route. Ferries are running most of the time, unless the U-boats are about. There’s a catch which is why I’m prepared to pay you another £5,000 in small notes.

“First, you have to spring our friend from where he is staying. He’s being looked after by a couple of young idiots, so that job shouldn’t be hard and he’ll come willingly.  On the way to Dublin, you will be waylaid and your guest abducted. You must put on a bit of a show, not enough to stop the bully boys but enough to be convincing. Some fisticuffs, perhaps. There will be two of them, but they may well hire some friends.”
“Pass the parcel, Mr Bracken. I always enjoyed that game as a kid.”
Bracken nodded. “Something like that. Last time we met Sorbay, I mentioned the Official Secrets Act of 1911. That still applies, particularly as the gentleman you are escorting is a Jerry who is kindly helping us out with a few matters."
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