by Ken Ogilvie
* * *
O’Reilly hopped a short distance and then had to stop and rest. His wounded leg was stiff and painful. Breathless, he scanned the area. As far as he could tell, no one had followed him, and Sykes should be arriving soon. He felt a glimmer of hope, then wondered whether Hound was okay. At least part of his plan must have worked, because Butch and the other thug had fled from the shack. On the other hand, why were they still alive?
O’Reilly wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. He had no ammo, so his only chance was to try and make it to the road, where he might run into Sykes.
He heard more gunshots coming from the shack. What did that mean? O’Reilly prayed that Hound was still alive. He hobbled on, hoping no one would come after him.
The woods seemed to go on forever. With no idea where he was, O’Reilly ploughed on until he saw sunlight filtering through the treetops and the woodland thinning out. At last! The county road. Then his heart sank. He’d travelled in a circle and was heading back to the shack. There was a black-suited man ahead of him, searching the bushes. The man hadn’t seen him yet, but he soon would.
O’Reilly turned and hobbled away.
This time he headed in the right direction, and had almost reached the county road when he heard footsteps right behind him and his pounding heart sank with dread.
The man knocked O’Reilly to the ground. “Time to die, copper.”
O’Reilly squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself.
Then he heard someone shout, “Drop the gun!”
O’Reilly stayed still and half opened his eyes.
“You heard me. Drop it!” Hadi Jafari strode forward, pointing his regulation SIG P229 at the gunman.
After a moment’s hesitation, the man threw down his weapon and raised his hands.
* * *
Hound and Freddie were easy to track. Guido followed a swathe of broken branches and trampled bushes. He’d been here before. Perez had shown him a stream he could use as an escape route if things went wrong. And they sure as hell had. Hound was heading towards the stream now, and Guido figured he’d catch him near the waterfall. Then he could put an end to this miserable venture.
He was spitting mad. Why couldn’t they just have killed Freddie? Instead, the whole thing was a mess, and one of their best men was dead. Perez would be furious, and even Guido didn’t care to be around an enraged Perez. The witnesses would all have to be eliminated, and one of them was an OPP officer. That upped the stakes. To make things worse, there wouldn’t be time to hide the bodies before the cops arrived. If they caught him, he’d be arrested and thrown in jail for a very long time.
No more branches snapped. The woods were silent. The trail of blood became indistinct. Guido halted and listened.
Butch ran up against him. “What’s happening?”
Guido seized his arm. “Shh! They’ve gone to earth.”
“What’re we going to do?” Butch’s eyes bulged.
“Go forward, idiot. What else? We’ll find them soon enough.”
“They have a gun.”
“One I gave you, right? Imbecile.” Guido’s dark eyes flashed.
“I don’t know,” Butch mumbled.
Guido regarded him with contempt. “How did we bring an asshole like you onto the team? Didn’t you count the shots? Big guy has a round or two left, tops.”
“That’s enough to kill us,” Butch whimpered.
“Not us. You.” The side of Guido’s mouth rose in a crooked grin.
Butch swallowed audibly. “What?”
“Don’t get it, do you? Useless piece of shit. You’re the bait. That’s why you’re with me. Big guy will use his bullets on you, then I’ll finish him off.”
“No damn way. I’m out of here.” Butch turned to run.
Guido grabbed him by the hair and jerked him back. “Listen, moron, if you don’t flush them out, I’ll shoot you.” His grip tightened. “Anyway, there’s no worry. Big guy’s wounded. Can’t shoot straight. And Freddie? Piss his pants before he’d shoot anything. Your chances are good.”
He seized Butch by the shoulders and shoved him forward. Butch dug his heels into the ground and began to blubber. A wet patch appeared at the front of his jeans.
Guido bared his teeth. He jammed his gun against Butch’s face and slid the barrel under his upper lip. “Move! Count of three, or you’re dead. One. Two. Three . . .”
Butch stumbled through the tangled bush and out into a clearing. “They’re gone, Guido. Let’s get out of here before the cops catch us.”
Guido pushed into the clearing and looked around. “Don’t make sense. They can’t just disappear into thin air.” He tramped about, ending up at a thicket of bushes abutting an enormous rock face. “Must have went in here. Best place to hide. Get your ass in gear.” He grabbed Butch by the collar and flung him at the thicket.
Butch lurched forward and stopped. “Please, Guido, let’s just get the hell out of here.”
Guido pointed his gun at him. “Move it, asshole.”
Quaking, Butch ploughed into the thicket, until he reached an open space next to the rock. A narrow cleft penetrated the wall. “I’ve found something. Could be a cave.”
“Wait,” Guido said. “I’m coming in.”
Chapter 34
I’ve told Jonathan it’s over between us. I had to. I’ve been offered a job with the OPP in Orillia. No help from him that I know of. I sure hope not. He denied it when I asked. He also said he can’t accept that our relationship is over. He asked me to give it another chance. I said no, but he hasn’t given up. I could see the determination on his face. I just hope he’s not going to make my life difficult.
— The diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (2003)
Sykes went inside the shack. He found one dead man, and Lukas, unconscious and barely alive, hidden in the bedroom. He called the ERT.
When he re-emerged, Rebecca told him Hadi had gone into the woods, following a trail of blood that led from the Bentley.
Sykes thought fast. “Chad, go find Hadi and help him. Rebecca, come with me. We’re going after whoever fled from the shack. Keep your gun at the ready.”
He took off and jogged into the woods with Rebecca following. They hadn’t gone far when she dashed past him, calling, “I know where they are.”
“Where?” Sykes ran after her.
“I told you earlier. The cave.” Rebecca sped up.
Sykes was struggling to keep up. “Tell me more,” he panted.
Rebecca slowed to a trot. “Hound’s cave. It’s near here. I recognized the woods up ahead. If they were being chased, they’d go there for safety.”
“Let’s see if we actually find it,” Sykes gasped.
“Please, sir. Just trust me.” Rebecca took off again.
The sound of gunshots echoing through the trees brought them to a halt.
“The cave. I’m sure they came from there.” Rebecca sprinted forward.
“Wait!” Sykes ran after her. When they arrived at the clearing in front of the cave they heard thudding noises, like fists on flesh.
Rebecca crossed to the thicket, parted the branches and plunged inside.
* * *
Freddie was wheezing and wide-eyed with panic. Hound put his hands on his shoulders and pushed him down onto the cot. “Sit there and be quiet, or they’ll hear you.”
Freddie looked tearfully up at Hound and whimpered. “They’re going to kill us.”
Hound left him there and went to a cabinet bolted to the cave wall. He took out a first aid kit and extracted a roll of gauze, binding his wounded forearm as sweat poured down his face. Perez’s men were close by, and the cave was their only hope. Why hadn’t Freddie picked up his shotgun when he told him to? They had no weapons to defend themselves with, beyond a dull table knife, which would be useless.
Hound heard a noise just outside the cave entrance. Butch, arguing with Guido. They’d found them. Hound groaned softly.
“Freddie, you have to help.” He s
hook Freddie, then slapped him.
Freddie’s eyes half-opened.
“If you want to live, you’ll have to act.” Hound’s voice was a whisper. “They’re here. There’s only two of them, so we have a chance.”
Freddie collapsed sideways.
“Stop that!” Hound pulled him upright and shook him. “You tackle Butch when he comes inside. He’ll be first, and easiest. I’ll take Guido.” To his relief, Freddie’s foggy eyes cleared. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hound put a finger to his lips. He pointed to the opening. “There. Crouch down and hold still. Do not make a sound. If we surprise them, we stand a chance.”
Hound dimmed the light.
Freddie got to his feet and stumbled to the tunnel. If he didn’t help, there was no hope for them. Butch might not be armed, but Guido would have a gun. Hound grabbed a wooden stool and stood at the cave mouth behind Freddie. They didn’t have to wait long.
Butch squeezed inside. Hound lunged forward and shoved him at Freddie, who wrapped his arms around Butch’s neck, the two of them falling to the floor. Almost immediately, Guido poked the barrel of his gun through the tunnel opening and opened fire randomly. Pressed flat against the wall, and close to the tunnel, Hound avoided getting hit. He counted seven shots in total. But how many bullets were left?
Then Guido charged into the cave, and Hound pounced, using the stool as a shield. Two bullets slammed into the thick wooden seat. He thrust the stool at Guido’s face, but Guido quickly raised his fist and smashed the stool from his grasp.
Hound knew he couldn’t escape Guido’s next shot. From the corner of his eye, he’d seen Butch shake off Freddie. His stomach knotted. He would have to face Guido and Butch alone.
“Kill him, Guido!” Butch screamed. “Kill the bastard.”
Guido bared his teeth. “You stupid shithead.”
He swung around and shot Butch three times in the chest, punching him against the wall. Echoes of the deafening explosions died away, and the room filled with the smell of spent gunpowder.
Hound snatched up the stool again, but to his surprise, Guido aimed his gun at Freddie and pulled the trigger. Click. Click. It was empty. Guido tossed the gun aside. “Fuckin’ Glock. Counted wrong.” He advanced on Hound, rolling his shoulders. Hound thought fast. Guido was a formidable and vicious opponent, trained to kill. Hound flung the stool away then stood absolutely still, facing Guido.
With a mighty roar, Guido charged at Hound. Just before he reached him, Hound dropped to the ground on all fours. Guido tripped over him and crashed to the floor. He lay half stunned for a moment, and then struggled to his feet.
Hound rose upright and shoved Guido into the narrow tunnel opening, trapping his right shoulder and arm. He struck again and again at Guido’s head until blood gushed from his nose and his rotting teeth cracked. But Guido wasn’t finished yet. With a jerk that ripped his shirt open and tore the skin off his shoulder, he broke free of the tunnel and launched an uppercut at Hound’s unprotected jaw. Hound staggered back.
Guido stepped forward and pushed him to the centre of the room. He punched the wound on his forearm, and Hound cried out and clasped it with his good arm. Guido emitted a low growl, blood dripping from his ruined mouth, and slammed his fist into Hound’s head, knocking him to the floor. Gasping for breath, Guido stumbled forward and kicked him in the ribs. Guido slumped over, breathing hard, while Hound rolled over and got to his hands and knees, swaying precariously. Guido grinned and raised his foot above Hound’s exposed neck.
“Sayonara, big man.”
Before Guido could drive his leg down, Hound reared up. His shoulders rammed into Guido’s raised foot, and he fell backwards.
Hound pushed to his feet, screaming like a wounded elephant. Guido managed to get up too, and stood facing Hound. Both men were exhausted and injured, their chests heaving like giant bellows.
Before either of them could make a move, a voice yelled, “Freeze!”
Rebecca burst through the tunnel entrance and pointed her gun at Guido. Sykes came in right behind her. He stood at her side and sneered at Guido. “It’s over, schmuck.”
Guido’s battered face sagged. His hands fell to his sides. He looked beaten.
Then he thrust out a bloodied arm and pointed at the tunnel entrance, yelling, “Shoot them!”
Rebecca and Sykes turned, and Guido sprang. They whirled about and fired in unison, catching Guido in mid-stride. His knees buckled and he crashed to the floor, where he lay motionless.
Hound cast Rebecca a weak smile. “I knew you would come.”
Rebecca nodded slowly. She went over and dragged Butch off Freddie, who was conscious, but his eyes were glazed.
Sykes bent down and examined Guido. “Dead.” He looked up at Rebecca. “Cool under pressure, DC Bradley. I’m impressed.”
She nodded and turned to Hound. “Where’s Constable O’Reilly?”
“The last I saw of him, he was hightailing it into the woods. Lukas is still at the shack, in the side room. He was shot in the shoulder and chest. He needs help, fast.” Hound pressed a hand to his own injured ribs.
Rebecca went to him and touched his arm. “Hound, we know about Lukas. The medics should be with him by now.”
Hound’s voice shook. “He saved my life. I’ve been very lucky. Could’ve died twice today, maybe three times. But O’Reilly may need help.”
Sykes pulled out his cell phone and called Chad. “Sykes here. Have you found O’Reilly?” He listened and turned to the others. “O’Reilly’s safe. Flesh wound in the leg. He should be fine. Hadi’s taken one of Perez’s men into custody. He caught up with the gunman and O’Reilly in the woods near the county road.”
Next, Sykes called Cartwright, who confirmed that the medics were tending to Lukas.
With Rebecca’s help, Hound limped to the oak stool and sat down. Gradually the strength returned to his legs. He focused his mind, and the pain in his ribs subsided to a dull ache.
Sykes looked at him. “Wait here. I’ll bring help.”
Hound stood up. “No need. I can make it on my own.”
“And me!” The sound of Freddie’s feeble voice echoed across the cave. “I can walk.” Using the wall for support, he pushed himself upright.
Sykes studied them both closely. “Okay, we’ll go back together. You can get treated at the shack.”
They left the cave and made their way slowly back through the woods.
* * *
Cartwright was waiting for them outside the shack. An ambulance, numerous squad cars and two ERT vans were there with their lights flashing. The scene had been taped off. In the bedroom, the medics were working on Lukas. He was alive, but barely. The ambulance was waiting to rush him to the hospital in Orillia.
O’Reilly had a large bandage wrapped around his leg. He seemed to be doing well. He climbed unaided into a squad car that would take him to a medical centre a few miles south of Conroy. He waved to Rebecca and Hound, and the car sped away.
One of the medics examined Hound, and then Freddie. He cleaned and dressed Hound’s forearm and put it in a sling. Hound held his free arm against his injured ribs. His jaw was bruised and his right eye was swollen almost shut.
Sykes glanced at Hound, and then went over to Cartwright. They moved a short distance away and began talking in low voices. From time to time, Sykes could be seen pointing at Hound, who was sitting on a tree stump beside the shack.
“There’s something strange about that man,” Sykes stated flatly.
Cartwright frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, but he recovered from his fight with Guido way too fast, and he’s handling the pain in his side too easily. He should be bent double, groaning, not sitting upright like that. And there are other things about him that puzzle me. I’m asking for your permission to look into his past.”
Cartwright shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you want, although you don’t need my permission. I don’t see why you’re so interested, but let me
know what you find.”
The three of them drove Hound and Freddie to the medical centre. Freddie was in fine form — he complained the entire way. Rebecca sat in the front seat, sandwiched between Cartwright and Sykes. She was thinking about the cave and the uneasy feeling it gave her. It was certainly no safe haven.
Chapter 35
At last, I’m a constable with the OPP, at the central region office in Orillia. DI Cartwright heads up the Criminal Investigation Branch. He insists he had nothing to do with me getting the job, and he still wants to get together again. That’s impossible now, even if I did want to give things another try. My goal is to become a detective in his Branch, but only after he leaves it. I’ve heard he’s on the fast track list for future promotion.
— The diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (2003)
The following morning, O’Reilly lay in bed in the medical centre. Rebecca stood beside him, relieved to learn that his wound wasn’t too serious. The bullet had passed right through the fleshy part of his thigh. He was going to be moved later today to the hospital in Orillia for rehab work on his leg.
Freddie Stafford had been treated for head wounds and shock. The police had questioned him about the attack on Archie and released him on his promise not to leave the area without notifying them first. Lukas was in the Orillia hospital in intensive care. Archie was there too, still in a coma.
Rebecca smiled at Hound, who was occupying the bed next to O’Reilly. She knew he was anxious to leave the centre, but the medical staff had insisted he stay the night. His ribs were cracked, not broken. The doctors planned to x-ray his jaw later today.
Cartwright and Sykes arrived, followed by Chad and Hadi, who beamed at Rebecca. She’d grown to like Hadi a lot. He was a decent man and a clever detective. She could learn a lot from him.
Rebecca cleared her throat. “I’m certain Kingsley McBride is the key to the homicides, although I can’t prove it. I should’ve caught onto him sooner, but he came up clean in the investigation last year. Anyway, I was searching for new leads . . .” She tailed off, aware of making excuses for herself.