Discreet Activities

by Claude Bouchard

  “I don’t know anymore,” he replied, his tone sullen.

  “What is the matter?” Saad questioned. “Are you bored? I went to see a movie to pass the time.”

  “No, I am not bored,” Fahad replied, motioning his friend away from the crowd with a head gesture. “Come. I wish to talk to you. Let us find a place to sit down.”

  They headed across Saint-Catherine and Saad pointed to the Dominion Pub a little further south on Metcalfe. “We can go have a beer and talk there.”

  “I don’t want a beer,” Fahad shook his head. “I am done with drinking alcohol and blending in. We will go to Dunn’s instead.”

  “As you wish,” Saad shrugged with indifference and followed his friend to the well known deli.

  They entered the restaurant and were immediately seated and brought menus. At a quarter past four in the afternoon, the place was empty except for a couple who had come in right behind them, which suited Fahad rather well considering the upcoming topic of conversation.

  Once the waitress had left after taking their orders of smoked meat sandwiches and Cokes, Saad looked up and asked, “What do you wish to discuss? Something is troubling you, my friend.”

  Fahad took a deep breath and replied. “I will be blunt. I have thought about this carefully and cannot go ahead with this plan tonight. We have no right to kill innocent people simply because their beliefs differ from our own.”

  “Are you certain, Fahad?” asked Saad, his tone one of caring concern. “Do you not want them to pay for the brother you have lost?”

  “The people who will be at the rave tonight did not kill my brother,” said Fahad, “And they did not kill your cousin. They do not hate you or I and I do not hate them because I do not know them. We have come here to Canada to get a better education and we have been received with open arms. Even people at school who know we are devout Muslims do not treat us any differently. I have come to realize these are not our enemies and doing something to cause any one of them harm is wrong.”

  “Mahmood will not be pleased,” replied Saad though with a smile.

  “That will be Mahmood’s problem,” Fahad shrugged. “He cannot force me to do something I disagree with. Killing and hurting innocent people goes against the commands of Allah and I will not do so simply to please someone. If Mahmood does not respect this, he is not worthy of being my friend.”

  “I cannot disagree with what you are saying,” Saad admitted. “I sat in a cinema this afternoon and as I looked around me, I wondered if any of those people might be going to the Old Port this evening to their death. I did not enjoy how it made me feel.”

  “I do not wish to tell you what to do, Saad,” Fahad replied. “You must do what you believe is right. I am happy you respect and accept my decision as I believe you do.”

  “Of course I do,” Saad confirmed, falling silent for a moment while the waitress delivered their meals before continuing. “What do you plan to do now?”

  “I have checked the schedules and there is a train leaving Central Station for Ottawa this afternoon at six o’clock,” Fahad replied then grinned. “This was not my intention when we left the cottage at noon but I am pleased Mahmood told us to bring our things in case we didn’t return. Now, I am already packed for my trip.”

  “So, you are going back to the university?” Saad asked, his tone pensive.

  “Where else would I go?” said Fahad. “I have assignments and studies to catch up on and I wish to make my father proud. He has suffered enough with the loss of my brother and I will do everything in my power to make sure he does not suffer because of me.”

  “You are a good son,” Saad nodded, “And I’m proud to be your friend but I must ask a favour of you.”

  “If it is something I can do, of course,” Fahad agreed. “What is it?”

  Saad grinned and said, “Can I have the window seat on the train to Ottawa?”

  * * * *

  Mahmood had been back downtown by four-fifteen and had spent the last forty-five minutes wandering amidst the crowds of shoppers, movie-goers and tourists milling about the city’s core. His level of comfort with the evening’s plans had not returned but he was now also challenged with the fear JayQ had instilled in him as he had little doubt the man would kill him if he failed to complete his mission.

  He looked at his watch, a little after five now, and accepted that his fate was the will of Allah. It was time to call the others and arrange the meetings to give each of them their explosive devices. He would call and meet Nasir first, hoping that speaking and seeing his good friend would help him rebuild the courage he had so easily lost just a short time ago.

  He pulled out the phone, punched in Nasir’s number and frowned after a moment when he heard the automated voicemail message. He waited a minute and tried again with the same result. Perhaps Nasir was somewhere within the city’s underground network in an area with no connectivity. Following a third attempt with no success, he resigned himself to contacting Fahad or Saad first though neither would help his morale as much as Nasir might.

  He called Fahad’s phone and was relieved to hear a ring tone followed by, “Hello.”

  “It is Mahmood,” he announced. “I have returned downtown and we must meet so I can give you your things.”

  “You do not have anything of mine,” Fahad replied.

  “I, uh, I have something to give you,” said Mahmood, confused by his friend’s reply.

  “I am not interested in what you have to give me,” Fahad insisted. “I have decided not to go to your party tonight so there is no need for us to meet.”

  “You have decided… What do you mean, Fahad?” demanded Mahood as a mixture of anxiety and anger engulfed him. “Where are you?”

  “Where I am is not important,” Fahad snapped. “What is important is that you know I will not be present. If you wish to go to this party, that is your choice but do not expect me to be there as I have decided not to participate in such activities.”

  “You are a coward, Fahad,” Mahmood hissed. “How dare you abandon us at the last moment?”

  “It is you who is a coward, Mahmood,” Fahad shot back. “Rather than find and deal with your brother’s true killer, you will kill innocent people. You will plant bombs and run away like a rat. That is not courage. That is murder.”

  “Very well, Fahad,” said Mahmood. “We do not need infidels. May Allah shun you when your day comes.”

  “Very well, Mahmood,” Fahad replied. “And as we western pigs commonly say, go fuck yourself.”

  He terminated the call and grinned at Saad. “Mahmood is not very pleased with me.”

  At that moment, Saad’s phone started to ring. He glanced at the call display and smiled.

  “If he is not pleased with you, he will soon be fucking pissed off with me,” he said before answering the call.

  * * * *

  “Hi, Tim. What’s up?” Dave asked from his office on Cypress Street where he, Chris and Jonathan had just returned to wait as they followed Mahmood via the tracking devices he unknowingly carried.

  “I’m with Joanne at Central Station,” Harris explained. “Jamali and Talpur got together earlier and had a discussion over an early dinner at Dunn’s. We were there and couldn’t hear much but we both have the impression these boys are pulling out.”

  “Really? Hang on a second, Tim,” said McCall as he turned on the speaker and repeated the news to Jon and Chris. “Okay, go on, Tim.”

  “Like I said, we couldn’t hear their complete conversation but the place was empty so we did catch some stuff.”

  “Such as?” Jon asked, wanting something more concrete than gut feelings to assess.

  “I’m getting there,” Harris laughed. “Fahad was saying something that ended with ‘to cause any one of them harm is wrong’ and Saad replied ‘Mahmood will not be pleased’. We missed part of Fahad’s next comment but it was something like ‘That’s Mahmood’s problem’. Fahad also mentioned something about assignments and studies to c
atch up on and making his father proud. The last bit we heard quite clearly was Saad asking if he could have the window seat on the train.”

  “They could be skipping out on their buddies,” Jonathan agreed, “Unless they hook up with Mahmood for the explosives before hopping a train to somewhere.”

  “They did both get calls on their cells just as they got here,” Tim added. “We weren’t close enough to hear anything but Fahad looked angry. Then Saad got a call which was rather short. He seemed to listen for a few seconds, replied something then cut the connection.”

  “What are they up to now?” asked Chris.

  “They just bought train tickets,” Harris replied, “And now they’re heading towards the main exit or, wait, the underground to Place Bonaventure. Joanne’s checking with the ticket counter to try to get their destination.”

  “They’re going to get their stuff in the Explorer,” Jon predicted.

  “Okay, hang on. Here comes Jo,” said Harris. “Alright, destination Ottawa, departure at six, in just under an hour. We’ll go see where they’re going now.”

  “Tim, head to the bottom level in the parking at Bonaventure,” Jon directed. “That should be where they’re going.”

  “Have Joanne stay up top just in case,” McCall suggested. “Frank should be hovering down there keeping an eye on his drunk buddy.”

  “We’re on it,” Harris replied. “Stay tuned.”

  * * * *

  “What you suggested to Mahmood was very smart,” Fahad laughed as they waited for an elevator to the parking garage. “I would have never thought of that.”

  “I figured he might think of coming here, expecting we would head back to school,” replied Saad, “So I suggested he come meet us at the bus station to talk.”

  “By the time he realizes we aren’t there,” Fahad nodded, “He won’t have enough time to get here before our train leaves.”

  “I just didn’t think him finding us at the train station was a good idea,” Saad explained. “He is very angry and might have decided to detonate the explosives.”

  An elevator arrived and they boarded for their ride to the bottom level of the parking garage.

  As they exited, Fahad wrinkled his face in disgust. “It smells terrible. Someone has been sick. Be careful not to step in it.”

  They hurried into the garage then stopped to scan the open space and quickly spotted the Explorer. As they approached, Saad suddenly grasped his friend’s arm and pulled him to a stop.

  “There is something wrong with the truck,” he whispered. “It seems very low on the ground.”

  They walked slowly closer and noted not only that both tires on the driver’s side were flat, a pool of liquid was visible under the front of the SUV with drips still falling beneath the engine. Circling towards the passenger side, they soon confirmed the other two tires were deflated as well.

  “Do you think Mahmood did this?” Saad asked as they stared at the disabled vehicle in disbelief.

  “That is ridiculous,” Fahad replied. “What would be the purpose of damaging the car to make it useless? Anyhow, it does not matter. Let us get our bags and get back to the train station.”

  Saad nodded and they resumed their cautious approach. They reached the rear of the Explorer but when Fahad tried to raise the tailgate, he realized it was locked.

  “I’ll go unlock it,” Saad offered and headed to the driver’s door, yanking it open as he reached it.

  “Ughh,” he exclaimed in horror, stumbling back a couple of steps as he buried his nose in the crook of his elbow.

  “What is the problem?” demanded Fahad as he rushed over and peered into the open doorway. “Allah, help us.”

  “Is he dead?” Saad asked, remaining several feet away.

  “No, he is not dead as he is snoring,” Fahad replied in disgust as he gazed at Nasir who lay sleeping in the passenger seat, his chest covered in vomit and his pants wet, probably with urine, based on the smell. “He got drunk as a pig and then sick as a dog.”

  “It is safe to assume Mahmood will be disappointed yet again,” Saad commented with a smirk.

  “That is once again Mahmood’s problem,” replied Fahad before taking a deep breath and leaning inside only long enough to find and hit the unlock button. “Now let’s get our things and get out of here before we get sick ourselves.”

  * * * *

  “I think Mahmood’s on the move,” Jonathan announced, glancing up from the iPad.

  “Another walkabout?” asked Chris.

  “I don’t think so,” Jon shook his head. “He just cut through the Eaton Centre right to the Metro.”

  “We know he’s not going to meet Nasir,” Chris replied.

  “Not based on Frank’s latest report,” McCall confirmed.

  “It’s kind of dumb if he’s going to meet the other two at Central Station,” said Jonathan. “He could just walk though the underground and get there faster.”

  “Unless he’s being careful to avoid being tailed,” Chris suggested. “Subway to Berri, line switch and another subway to Bonaventure could allow him to lose someone.”

  “If he was being tailed,” Jon grinned.

  “I just had a thought which might make you wish we were still following him,” said Dave. “What if he’s going to meet someone else, like his cell leader, for example?”

  “Hmm… Good point,” Chris nodded then winked at Dave. “Good thing Leslie’s been following his every step since he got back downtown.”

  * * * *

  Leslie wasn’t surprised when Mahmood got off the subway on the green line at the Berri-UQAM station. Berri, after all, was the central connection hub for the Montreal Metro system where she expected Mahmood to transfer to the orange line to head either to the Old Port or Central Station where she had just learned from Chris that Fahad and Saad could be found.

  To her surprise, however, Mahmood seemed to be heading for the exits and not for another subway line at all. She continued to follow, a task made relatively easy amidst the heavy, late afternoon, pedestrian traffic. A moment later, his destination became clear and Leslie pulled out her phone.

  “As you can see, he’s at the bus station,” said Leslie when Chris answered the call.

  “Yep, I’m already checking schedules,” Chris replied. “The two boys at Central Station already have their tickets to Ottawa and Greyhound has bus departures at six and six-thirty. That may be where their target is after all. If Mahmood buys a ticket, you’ll have to find out where he’s going and go for a ride.”

  “Just another perk that comes with this job,” Leslie chuckled. “Spontaneous travel. Okay, we’re into the terminal now but he’s not heading for the ticket counter. I’d say he’s looking for somebody and he doesn’t look real happy.”

  “Stick with him,” said Chris. “He may be meeting with someone we don’t know, which would be great, or he’s there to meet one of his crew who we know aren’t there.”

  “You’ve got to love a tight-knit terrorist cell,” Leslie chuckled again. “Anyhow, he’s still waiting and looking damned annoyed and impatient. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  * * * *

  “Their train leaves in twenty-five minutes,” Tim murmured to Joanne as they watched Fahad and Saad waiting at the departure gate for Ottawa. “Let’s see what Dave and company have in mind.”

  He placed the call and seconds later was on line with McCall, Addley and Barry.

  “What’s the status, gents?”

  “Mahmood’s at the bus station on Berri, waiting for someone and angry as hell,” Chris replied. “We’re guessing your two charges told him they were leaving town and to meet them there if he wanted to talk.”

  “That makes sense,” Harris agreed. “Even if he heads here now, he’ll never make it in time to see them. They’ll be letting the passengers down in the next ten minutes, which leads me to my next question. What do you want us to do with these two?”

  “I’ve been toying with that subject for a little
while,” Jonathan replied. “If you hadn’t called, we would have called you in a couple of minutes. These idiots didn’t do anything and I doubt they ever will so I was considering just letting them go. However, we still don’t know who’s behind this and anything they can tell us might help. Having a chat with them will probably also encourage them to play safe in the future. Get back-up from Central Station security and take the boys to RCMP headquarters for questioning. I’ll call Nick Sharp to let him know to expect company.”

  “We’re on it,” Tim agreed. “What about Frank? He’s still down in the garage and his guy is out cold in the Explorer.”

  “I’ll get a couple of squad cars over and have one go down to meet him,” said McCall, “I’ll also send a tow truck for the Explorer.”

  “Better make it a flatbed,” Tim laughed. “And they may want to hose Nasir down before letting him into the car. What’s on our list when we’re done with these guys?”

  “Head over to the Old Port,” Addley replied. “We’re pretty sure that’s where things are supposed to happen. I’ll have Nick try to get further confirmation as soon as he chats with your bozos.”

  “We’ll get them shipped over real quick,” Harris replied. “Later, gentlemen.”

  * * * *

  Mahmood looked at the time again; five-thirty-eight. He had tried calling Saad’s phone several times and even Fahad’s, once, but either their phones were off or they were underground somewhere and unable to receive a signal.

  He had been surprised they were not at the bus station when he had arrived as he remembered Saad speaking as if they were already there. However, he had been disappointed and angry at the time of their conversation and perhaps had not been fully paying attention. He was now starting to wonder if Saad had lied to him to make him waste time while they left by some other means, perhaps by train or even with the Explorer.