Red Paint

by Valerie Van Clieaf

  There was a knock at the door. Sergeant Kwan entered, and Brandeis made the introductions.

  “Sergeant Kwan and his men will be boarding the Tanu shortly. He’ll be in command of the vessel.”

  Kwan shook hands with Meighan and Alex.

  “We wanted to be sure the Seal Cove base was kept in the dark,” said Brandeis. “At least for now. We’ve kept our detachment office up here in the dark as well. I can’t explain why. I’m not going to bring them in until it’s necessary.”

  “I got my orders directly from the CCG Commissioner in Ottawa. My instructions were to tell the crew we’re on a training exercise. We’re moored at Seal Cove. We arrived early this morning.”

  “How big is the ship, and how big is your crew?” asked Kwan.

  “The Tanu is seventy-five metres long. Crew includes me, the chief engineer, the bosun and nine additional crew.” We’ve got berths for sixteen more. And there’s an operations room for your use.”

  “Can you accommodate a helicopter?” Brandeis asked.

  “There are two Bell 412s at the Seal Cove base. I put them both on standby, but if needed, the Tanu can only handle one.”

  “How many people can your lifeboats accommodate?” asked Alex.

  “We carry two rigid, eleven meters long, inflatable lifeboats with inboard and outboard motors. The two boats can hold about fifty people. How many people are we talking about? The commissioner didn’t know.”

  “We’re still not sure,” said Alex, “but from the transportation arrangements we know the perps have made, we’re guessing at least that many. Maybe more.”

  “However many there are, we’ll manage somehow,” said Meighan.

  “The commissioner said you’re equipped to carry two 12.7 mm machine guns,” said Brandeis.

  “We brought them with us. Just say the word and we’ll mount them.”

  “Do it,” said Brandeis.

  “I understand the storm coming our way won’t make a difference to you?” said Kwan.

  Meighan smiled. “Bad weather is in our job description. The Tanu and her crew are trained to handle all kinds of weather. Many rescues are undertaken in unbelievably bad weather. Save your worry for the people you’re trying to rescue.”

  “I’ll have my communications officers link with your intranet shortly,” said Brandeis. “They’ll need the specific marine radio frequencies you’re using up here.”

  Meighan nodded.

  “How far out can you operate?” asked Alex.

  “We’re authorized beyond 120 nautical miles from shore. Our top speed is greater than 25 knots. That’s close to 50 kilometers per hour.”

  “When will your crew be ready?”

  “They’re ready,” said Meighan.

  There was a knock at the door. Stuart entered.

  “Bad news,” said Stuart. “We just lost the GPS signal for the ship.”

  “Damn,” said Brandeis. “Where was the ship when you lost the signal?”

  “Right on course for the port.”

  “Can you be more specific,” said Alex, moving to the blow-up map of the Hecate showing the sea around Prince Rupert.” Everyone crowded around the map. Stuart pointed to the sea close to West Kinahan Island.

  “The ship was just about to sail round Kinahan and head north to the port. They were about twelve nautical miles from the port when we lost them.

  “Did the ship complete all check-ins required?” asked Alex.

  “Yes. Manifest says they’re unloading canned goods and computers.”

  “Is Kirigin scrambling the GPS signal or is the ship’s AIS down?” Alex asked.

  “The AIS is down.”

  “Who would the captain have to notify that his AIS is down in order not to arouse suspicion with the Port Authority?” Alex asked.

  “Vessel Traffic Service.”

  “Has he made the call?” Brandeis asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Kirigin could have pulled the plug on the AIS,” said Brandeis. “It could be standard procedure for them.”

  “I think we should consider the possibility that they’re going to offload the women to smaller boats like they did in Vancouver?” said Alex. “The trucks would have to be close to shore and it would have to be somewhere accessible to Hwy 16.”

  “And somewhere secluded,” said Brandeis. “We’ll continue to cover the port, but we need to be alive to what Desocarras is suggesting.”

  “The captain will use the established shipping lanes as long as he can to avoid suspicion,” said Meighan. “That’s what I would do.”

  “Maybe,” said Alex. “Or weigh anchor where the ship is difficult to spot until closer to the transfer.”

  “Unless the meet up is happening soon,” said Brandeis.

  “If they wait till the storm is on us, there’ll be a lot less scrutiny because everyone at sea will be scrambling to take cover.”

  “It’s a good point Alex,” said Brandeis. “Either way, there’s a lot of territory to cover; we need eyes in the air. We’ll put both the Bells in the air; me in one, you in the another. We need guides; it’s time to pull in a few officers from the Rupert Detachment.

  “Best we do that in person,” said Alex.

  “That’s my thinking. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 13

  Prince Rupert was colder than Levon remembered it to be this time of year. Because Rupert was right on the coast, it was usually above freezing all winter. He was glad he’d brought the extra clothes with him, and although he’d taken off his jacket to eat breakfast, he kept his wool hat and scarf on.

  They were sitting at a booth in a small diner called Freddy’s. His brother Robbie and Bill sat across from him. Dave, online name revolver, had arranged to meet them here. He had the inside seat beside Levon. Dave had his cell out and was scrolling through his messages. Rezrozy had just arrived and Dave waved her over. She slid in beside Levon.

  “I’m Rosie,” she told the table before reaching over Levon to grab a menu. Rosie had brought three people with her. None of them were redz, and so she’d dropped them at the house of a friend before coming here. He was feeding her volunteers before heading out to work.

  Levon managed to give Rosie one quick glance when she first sat down and registered that she was a girl with beautiful hair. Then it was eyes down. His experience interacting with women was limited to occasional banter with his girl cousins which he was only just starting to get the hang of. Robbie, on the other hand, had a gift for setting people at their ease, and it wasn’t long before he worked his magic with everyone at the table.

  “I didn’t get your name,” said Rosie to Levon.

  “Levon,” he whispered without looking up.

  She gave the what did I do? sign to Robbie.

  Wikem, he mouthed silently and made a small, quiet gesture with his hand. Rosie’s eyes flew open in amazement and she stole another glance at Levon. Rosie was a recent member of the redz and was stoked that she was sitting at a table with the one and only wikem, famous in their circle as the computer guru who made it happen for them. Levon was oblivious as he had picked that moment to quietly asked Dave if he could have the inside seat against the wall. He needed some privacy to check his computer.

  “Rosie, Levon needs the inside seat,” said Dave quietly.

  She nearly fell over her feet to comply. Levon followed her out of the booth, careful not to catch her eye. Once Dave was standing beside him, Levon quickly slid back in, face red with embarrassment at all the fuss. He laid his tablet on the table and leaned a crooked arm on the table so that the screen was only visible to him. Robbie watched, a tiny smile playing at his lips, as Rosie quickly followed Levon in and sat beside him, glancing at him with undisguised interest. Levon was pretending to ignore her, but the blush on his cheeks told Robbie otherwise.

  The waitress returned to take their order. Levon looked up briefly and exchanged a silent glance with Robbie. He got the m
essage and ordered for them both. Once the waitress had their orders, she moved quickly to an open hatch and called them out to Freddie. Dave got down to business and everyone leaned in, except Levon whose fingers flew across the keys.

  “Golden Harvest hasn’t been spotted yet. Bitchd and her crew are covering the Kitimat port area, just in case. I doubt they’ll get any action. We have three people keeping an eye on the container dock here. Two cars are out on the coast road, covering the area from Prince Edward and down around the peninsula. I drove by the address wikem posted for Everett Smythe on my way here and there was no vehicle in the driveway.

  “He drives a blue Honda Civic, license number AJ6 405,” said Levon quietly without looking up. Phones were out around the table as everyone noted the license plate.

  “I did spot a couple of guys parked a half block up from the house. Figured them to be cops so we know they’re watching it. Mercurial reports that there’s no sign of the ship in the waters off Lax Kw’alaams.”

  “I don’t think they’re going to see the ship up there,” said Robbie. “There’s no road out.”

  “I don’t think so either, but it doesn’t hurt to have it covered,” said Dave.

  “Do we have anyone on the Dashken or Kshaoom reserves?” Bill asked. “They’re both on islands close to shore.”

  “We don’t have anyone at Kshaoom; Dashken’s a possibility,” said Dave. “I’m waiting to hear back if there’s anyone there that can put a boat in the water.”

  “Dave,” said Levon, there’s a recent post: a fishing boat from Dashken is monitoring the shoreline south of the port and along the inside strait.”

  Dave looked relieved. “That’s great! They said once they got a boat, they’d stay out as long as they could.”

  “Do we have anyone watching the shipping lanes?” Bill asked.

  “We don’t,” said Dave.

  “When and where did we lose the ship?” Rosie asked.

  “Near West Kinahan Island,” said Dave, with a glance at Levon who nodded without looking up.

  Robbie had his cell out and was looking at a map of the Rupert Inlet. “It was close to the port then.”

  The waitress arrived with their breakfast. Everyone dug in except Levon. Noticing this, Rosie touched his arm gently.

  “We don’t have long,” she whispered. “Eat up before it gets cold.”

  Levon dutifully picked up his fork and started eating. His eyes remained on the screen.

  “Is anyone watching the old Skeena cellulose plant?” Bill asked.

  “The old plant on Watson Island you mean?” said Dave between mouthfuls. “Why would we?”

  “I worked there for a few years. They had their own dock facilities. And access to the highway is close.” Bill took a swig of coffee. “It has a container dock so there would be winches. And it’s secluded. Even a big ship could pull in and not be seen.” A gust of wind rattled the window near their booth. “The storm is gonna be on us sooner than they said,” said Bill.

  “The Skeena plant’s been shut for years,” said Dave.

  “True, but all someone would need is a set of keys. Easy for someone who used to work there. Nobody would be the wiser,” said Bill.

  “That’s true,” said Dave. “Let’s check it out when we finish here.”

  “Who is Nikki?” Levon asked no one in particular.

  “Nikki is one of ours,” said Dave. “Why?”

  “She’s with her brother. She just posted that they were flagged down by a young girl on River Road, near Haysport.”

  “What time did she post?

  “A few minutes ago.”

  “Does she say where they are now?” asked Dave.

  “They’re bringing her to Seaside Reserve,” said Levon quietly. He continued reading. “The girl didn’t have a coat. She must have been cold.”

  “They’ll make sure she’s warm now buddy,” said Robbie. “Does Nikki live at Seaside?” he asked Dave.

  “No but her brother does. He married in. They probably chose Seaside because it’s close to where they found her.”

  “What else did Nikki say?” Bill asked.

  “She says the woman was being held captive and that she escaped. Dave, she wants you to meet them at her brother’s house.”

  Dave slid out of the booth, pulled out his cell and checked that Robbie and Rosie had his number.

  “I’ll come with you,” said Bill. He slid out and pulled on his coat.

  “What do you want my team to do?” said Rosie, downing the last of her coffee and joining the others in the aisle.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to have another car on River Road. You can access it via Watson Island. Follow it from there around the peninsula to the highway. You can see the ocean all along that stretch. Then double back. You’re on the lookout for anything unusual.”

  “Got it.”

  “We’ll head to Watson Island and check out the old Skeena plant,” said Robbie. “Levon?”

  “I’m ready?” Levon slipped his tablet into an inside pocket and joined the others.

  “Be careful you guys,” said Dave. “Any sign of activity, don’t go near the plant.”

  “We’ll be careful, Dave,” said Levon. “You be careful too.”

  The group paid their bill and left the restaurant. Freddy’s was not far from the container port. One by one they headed north through Rupert and around the northwest tip of Kaien Island to pick up Hwy 16 which wound its way along the east part of the island before it crossed the bridge, connecting the island to the mainland. Most of Kaien Island is heavily forested and mountainous.

  Levon pulled out the street map of Prince Rupert and surrounding area. “We have to follow the others back along the highway, then over the bridge to the mainland,” he said. The clock on Robbie’s dashboard read 9:38 am.

  “Has Desocarras messaged you?” asked Robbie. Levon checked the protonmail account.

  “He said he’d be in Rupert a little after eight.”

  “So, he’s here already. Are you going to tell him we’re here?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  “I think it’s better he doesn’t know. At least for now.”

  Levon said nothing. Robbie knew from a lifetime of experience this meant agreement. Neither spoke as the car wound across the northern tip of Kaien Island. They passed the Seal Cove cut-off and, shortly after, the highway veered south.

  “It won’t be long till we reach the bridge. You have to turn right after the bridge.”

  Robbie nodded.

  “Our friends will go south when we reach Port Edward, and we’ll head north. Watson Island isn’t far from Port Edward.”

  Robbie nodded again. He’d already checked the address, but Levon liked to check everything himself. That didn’t bother Robbie. He was an easy-going guy and knew from experience, some of it not so pleasant, that Levon often noticed what others missed.

  By the time they were across the bridge and heading east toward Port Edward and their cut-off to Watson Island and the Skeena plant, the wind was gusting stronger, but the rain was still holding off.

  “Will you be able to keep us online?”

  “I think so,” said Levon. Sáhkku just messaged that she got permission for us to patch into a new communication network that’s still being beta tested. She sent me the link earlier. Just in case.”

  “Who’s network?”

  “A friend of hers works for a big telecom. They’re in Helsinki, and the US. I think there’s a New Zealand office too. They use low earth orbit satellites to transmit signals that never have to touch the ground, no gateways. They promise complete security. They’re been running a pilot LEO project for a while now. Low earth orbit is going to be groundbreaking, Robbie. It’ll change everything. Her friend knows about her dream for us and supports what we do. She got permission for us to patch in for twenty-four hours. We’ll be completely safe.”

  “You never cease to amaze
me, bro!”

  “Not me, Robbie. Sáhkku made it happen.”

  Robbie was silent for a moment. “But if the weather gets bad, won’t that interfere with satellite transmission?”

  “No, because the satellites we’re bouncing our signal off are much closer to earth.” He was silent for a few moments. “Though I guess, if the weather gets bad enough, it might. But I’m hoping it doesn’t.”

  “What about the Russian. Maybe he’s using LEO satellite communications too.”

  “It’s a very recent thing, Robbie. It’s not being offered commercially yet. He’s relying on regular satellite interface. Really bad weather will shut him down. And the police too. We have the advantage.”

  The brothers fell silent again as they approached the Watson Island cut-off. Robbie signaled and they turned right and headed north.

  “I’ll drive by the gate first. How close is the Skeena plant?”

  “About four kilometres from here. The driveway is on the left.”

  They had gone a few kilometres along the old two-lane highway that cut through a thick pine forest. No one passed them going south and Robbie’s red Camry was the only car travelling north.

  “There’s the sign for the plant,” said Levon. “It’s just ahead, eight hundred metres.”

  “There aren’t many people on the road,” said Robbie.

  A few minutes later, they passed the gate to the plant. He continued a little past it and pulled the car over onto the shoulder, shutting off the engine.

  “We’ll double back and have a closer look.” They exited the car and walked back to the gate, a high, metal, double-sided affair. A heavy, no-nonsense padlock swung from a heavy chain that encircled both sides.

  “We could climb the fence and have a look,” said Robbie.

  Levon pointed to the soft earth close to the fence. “No tire tracks,” he said. “I don’t think anyone’s been here, Robbie. And look at the rust on the padlock.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “We should let the others know.”

  They headed back to the car and got in. Robbie started it up and did a U-turn, then headed back down the way they came. Levon opened his tablet and posted what they’d found. They were almost to the Watson Island cut-off when a dark blue semi sped past them.