"Sit down son." McBrien gestured at the seat opposite him. "Please."

While McBrien may have dressed like a Hollywood producer, he was pure Shankill Road. The two thugs standing in opposite corners of the room were no better. All three of them were just intelligent enough to be vicious. McBrien must have noticed my reluctance, as he snarled at his bodyguards, "Get out. I'm safe with this one."

Reluctantly, the pair of musclemen shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind them, muffling the noise from the saloon bar. I sat down. McBrien held up a bottle of Hinch whiskey and a crystal-cut tumbler. "Drink?"

"Thanks." I took a sip from the glass. The whiskey was sweet and warming. I relaxed.

"You did a good job," McBrien said.

I shrugged the compliment off. "I'm a professional. It's how I get paid." I took another sip of the whiskey. "Speaking of which?"

"Of course." McBrien reached under the table and retrieved a bright orange carrier bag. "Here." He pulled out bundles of five pound notes and put them down on the table. I reached for one of the bundles. "It's all there," he said.

"I trust you," I said. "After all, we have a contract."

"Aye. We do. Speaking of which."

I stopped putting the bundles of money away. "Do you have another job?"

"Not quite." McBrien leaned close. "I'd like to retain your services."

"Retain?"

"I'm offering you a position. I could do with a man like you on the payroll. You do good work. What do you say?"

"Mr McBrien." I chose my next words carefully. I did not want to annoy him. "It's a very fine offer, and I am seriously tempted by it." I looked into McBrien's eyes, holding his gaze. "But I'll have to turn it down."

"May I ask why not?" McBrien's tone of voice was carefully neutral.

"I have the utmost respect for you. But I'm a contractor. A freelancer. I'm not bound by politics or anything like that. I only owe allegiance to the person who's paying me. That's why people hire me." I held out my glass for another shot of whiskey. McBrien obliged. "Now, if it was to become known that I was working for someone, I wouldn't be as useful as I am now. Worse - I'd be a marked man. But, if I stay a gun for hire ... ?"

McBrien pondered my reply for a moment. "I can't say I'm not disappointed," he said at last. "But I understand."

"Pure class," I said and drained my glass.

"And so are you," said McBrien.

I shouldered my bag. "Until next time."

"Aye," McBrien said. "Until next time."