The Grey Zone

by Easton, Don

  She pointed to the dresser while still supporting her jaw with one hand. “Second drawer down, between my underwear,” she mumbled.

  Seconds later, Jack tapped in Rose’s number.

  She sounded annoyed when she answered, maybe thinking it was a wrong number or a telemarketer.

  “It’s Jack. We’re both alive but need help.”

  “Where are you?” Rose shouted.

  “Somewhere on an acreage about halfway between Abbotsford and Chilliwack. I’ve got a gun and am in a bedroom with Alicia at the back of a mobile home. There are two bad guys somewhere else in the trailer with guns who want to kill us. One is Derek Powers and the other is a guy by the name of Horace. He drives a black van.”

  “You know his plate?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t live here.”

  “Damn it,” Rose said, “give me a sec to grab another pen.”

  “Hurry, the battery’s almost dead.”

  “Keep talking.”

  “Two more bad guys are in the room with me, but out of commission.”

  “Out of commission? You mean dead?”

  “On their way to being dead.”

  “Jesus … okay, I’ve got a pen.”

  Jack gave her the licence plate number to Horace’s van.

  “Uh, okay. I take it you don’t know your exact location?”

  “No, it’s in a rural area south of the Trans-Canada. Got a pit bull roaming around outside, as well.”

  “Which —”

  “This phone’s almost dead. I think I should call 911 while I still can. I’ll call you back when I find another phone or recharge this one.”

  “Don’t go yet! At least tell me which exit you took to get off the Trans-Canada —”

  The sound of the dog barking underneath the trailer told Jack it was time to quit talking. “Gotta go. Someone’s about to attack,” he whispered, then ended the call.

  “Jack!” Derek yelled from the kitchen. “Talk to me, man! Are Celeste and Skye okay? Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

  Talk so that Horace can shoot me from underneath the trailer? Not fucking likely.

  “Don’t make a sound,” Jack whispered in Alicia’s ear. “Horace is underneath us.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes while Derek kept trying to get them to talk. Eventually Jack heard him swear and run from the trailer. By then, Celeste had slumped over. The hand she’d used to hold her broken jaw in place had fallen to her lap, and her mouth gaped open. Hope you die, you bitch.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Jack heard Derek yelling from outside, near the hangar, followed by the sound of Horace scrambling out from under the trailer.

  “Sounds like he’s leaving,” Alicia whispered.

  “Maybe,” Jack replied, picking up the phone. “I’m going to call 911. They’ll be able to trace my call.” He stabbed in the numbers, then cursed. “The battery’s dead.” He looked at Alicia. “Sit tight. I’m going to try and see what they’re doing.”

  Alicia grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me,” she said anxiously.

  “I won’t. I’ll turn the lights off and peek out the window. At the same time, I want to grab my clothes and get dressed.”

  Alicia gestured to Celeste and Skye. “In the dark, what if … what if they’re faking it and they try something?”

  Jack knew from the sound of the voices that Derek and Horace were far enough away not to be a threat. “Okay, if it’ll make you feel better, hold this.” He handed her the pistol and added, “Keep an eye on Celeste.”

  He grabbed Skye by the ankles and dragged him on his back toward the end of the bed. Skye moaned, but his eyes never opened. Seconds later, Jack used the belts to bind Skye’s hands to the brass railings on the footboard.

  Celeste was next. She cried out in pain and pawed at her jaw as Jack dragged her into position. Seconds later, she too was stretched out on the floor and tied up beside Skye.

  The voices outside had come closer, so Jack took the pistol from Alicia, then turned the bedroom light off and shut the door to block the light from the hallway. He then stood back from the window so his face wouldn’t be illuminated by a yard light.

  Horace was helping Derek load Peter into the van. Once that was done, Derek stayed in back with Peter, Horace jumped into the driver’s seat, and the van roared off. Good, they’re all gone. We’re safe.

  Jack turned to look at Alicia. Sorry, I’m going to lie to you now, but I think someday you’ll be glad I did.

  “What are they doing?” Alicia asked, getting to her feet.

  “Stay down,” Jack whispered. “I think Derek is taking his brother to the hospital, but I can’t see Horace. He might be under the trailer again, perhaps hoping we’ll think they’ve all gone, and then he’ll try to kill us. He probably doesn’t know we have a phone, or he wouldn’t even believe us if I told him.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We stay put and wait. Once my eyes adjust to the dark, I’ll rummage around and see if I can find a charging cable.”

  Jack got dressed. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw that Alicia was sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, trembling. “Try to relax,” he said. “If Horace decides to burst in on us, he’ll have to shut off the hall light first or face looking into a darkened room while silhouetted in the light behind him. If he does shut the light off, we’ll know, and I’d kill him before he gets to us. His only other alternative is to try and shoot us from underneath the trailer.”

  “So you think we’re safe?”

  “As long as he can’t pinpoint where we are by listening to us. Sit quietly and I’ll look for the phone charger.”

  “Okay,” Alicia whispered.

  Jack then looked through all the dresser drawers. “Can’t find it,” he said. “I think we’ll need to wait until daybreak.” He took a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. She cuddled up beside him when he sat down.

  Over the next two hours, Jack checked Celeste and Skye’s pulses every fifteen minutes.

  Eventually Alicia whispered, “I can’t stand it! I’m sure he’s gone. I haven’t heard a thing.”

  “Or maybe he’s lying in wait, thinking that Derek and Peter might return from the hospital. Do you want to watch these two while I go out to the kitchen? Maybe the phone charger is there. Hopefully that isn’t where Horace is hiding.”

  Alicia paused. “I think you should wait another hour.”

  Another hour dragged by, then Jack said, “Wish me luck.” He then crept down the hall to the kitchen and returned to the bedroom a minute later, the phone charger dangling from his hand. “Got it!”

  Rose answered her phone after the first ring.

  “We’re okay,” Jack said immediately. “Did you get the name to the licence plate I gave you?”

  “Yes. It’s registered to a Horace Romano, with an apartment address in Abbotsford. He isn’t home, and we staked out his address.”

  “You got this number on your call display, or is it blocked?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “I’m hanging up. Call me back immediately and I’ll let it ring several times.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain when you call back.” Jack ended the call, then yelled out, “Horace Romano! If you can hear me, I’ve got a phone. If you’re close enough, you’ll hear it ringing. I’ve already given them your plate number. It’s over! Go stand under the yard light with your hands on top of your head — otherwise our sharpshooters will kill you.”

  The phone started to ring, but there was no response to indicate Horace was around.

  “Okay,” Jack said upon answering, “I think we’re safe and I found the phone charger.”

  “Where are you? We’ve been going nuts! Why didn’t you call 911?”

  “I tried … the battery died. Let me tell you where I am.”

  “Are you still at the mobile home?”

  “Yes, in a bedroom at the rear of the trailer.
Derek’s car is parked in the yard and there’s a hangar close by with a Cessna inside and a red Corvette. Where are you? Are you —”

  “At your bloody office! We all are! Give me your location!”

  Jack gave her the call letters for the Cessna and the licence plate number for the Corvette. He told her they belonged to a woman by the name of Celeste, who was the ringleader of the group. “She’s unconscious and tied to the foot of the bed beside me,” he added, “along with her partner, a fellow by the name of Skye.”

  “You said there were two others trying to kill you. Derek and Horace.”

  “Yes, Derek’s brother Peter was also in on it. I poisoned him and I think Derek took him to a hospital not long after I first called you.”

  “You poisoned him?”

  “Yes. Same as Celeste and Skye. I got them to drink antifreeze, but Derek wouldn’t drink any and Horace only had about two ounces, so he’s probably okay for a few more hours.”

  “Where’s Horace?”

  “I’m not sure. I think Derek used his van to take Peter to the hospital, but I don’t know if Horace was driving. I’d heard him arguing earlier about wanting to stay to kill us. He might still be lurking around, possibly under the trailer.”

  “Okay … Laura’s handed me the plate info on the Corvette. Registered to a Celeste O’Brien. Rural address. It was her birthday yesterday.”

  “Yeah, it was quite a party. I would’ve called you, but I was sort of tied up.”

  “I’ll let the Emergency Response Team know where you are. They’ll likely be there within thirty minutes. We’ll also check the hospitals.”

  “It’ll be light in a couple of hours. Alicia and I are safe. Tell ERT that if they want to set up a perimeter, then hold off until daybreak, it won’t be a problem.”

  “I’ll let them know.”

  “Have them phone me when they’re set up. We don’t need anyone getting killed by friendly fire.”

  “Will do.”

  “Listen, I think I heard something under the trailer again. I’m going to hang up. I’ll call you later.”

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Alicia whispered after Jack ended the call.

  “Probably the dog, or maybe the wind,” Jack said.

  Almost another hour passed before ERT called Jack to inform him that they had set up around the trailer and also secured the hangar.

  “It’ll be daybreak soon,” Jack noted.

  “Yeah, if you’re sure you’re safe, we’ll wait until then. We’ve also got the dog master with us, but seeing as you said there was a pit bull living under the trailer, he’s not inclined to put his dog in harm’s way unless he has to.”

  “I agree. Let’s wait.”

  Thirty minutes later, Jack checked Celeste and Skye’s pulses.

  “No pulse on either!” he said, then started administering CPR to Skye.

  Alicia simply stared at him, stunned.

  “Damn it, get to work on her!” Jack ordered.

  Alicia didn’t move.

  “What the hell? I’m giving you an order. Start CPR!” he stated, still pumping on Skye’s chest.

  “No,” she whimpered, “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “You don’t understand.” She started to sob. “They did stuff to me.”

  “Stuff?”

  “They assaulted me … sexually. The both of them. I was too ashamed to tell you.”

  Jack didn’t slow down as he continued to administer CPR. “Alicia, I’m sorry, I truly am, but you need to get a grip. It’s not you who should feel shame. If they survive, you’ll have your day in court, and it’ll be up to a judge to decide their punishment. They’re not a threat to us now. Our job is to try and save them.”

  Alicia hung her head and sobbed.

  “Do it!” Jack yelled.

  Alicia crawled over to Celeste and started administering CPR.

  Minutes later, the phone rang and Jack answered, holding it in the crook of his neck as he continued CPR.

  “We got ’em!” Rose said. “Horace and Derek have been arrested at the hospital. Peter is unconscious and the doctor doesn’t know if he’ll make it or not. Horace is being treated, but is cuffed to the bed.”

  “So Horace did go with them,” Jack commented. “That’s good news. Call ERT for me and tell them to come in. Alicia and I are doing CPR on the two we got here.”

  “I’ll call them and be there within ten minutes myself. Laura and Mason are with me.”

  Moments later, the ERT commander checked Celeste and Skye for a pulse, then shook his head. “You’re wasting your time. They’re both dead.”

  Jack looked grim. He stood and wrapped his arm around Alicia’s shoulder, then glanced at the ERT commander. “The pit bull?”

  “Safely secured. We used a dog catch pole.”

  Jack went outside and He turned to face Alicia upon seeing Rose’s car billowing dust as it zoomed along a gravel road toward the acreage.

  “Sorry, Alicia, I’m sure you were looking forward to your day in court,” he said facetiously, nodding toward the trailer.

  Alicia looked puzzled, but didn’t reply.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I will be … I need time to process, but I’m okay.”

  “I think we better get you to a doctor.”

  “Is that necessary?” she asked. “I mean, there wasn’t penetration. I’m upset. But …” Her eyes sought his. “Does everyone need to know?”

  “That you were sexually assaulted?”

  Alicia nodded.

  “Seeing as the perpetrators will never do it again, I’m happy not to mention it and to leave it out of my statement.”

  Alicia looked relieved. “Thank you.”

  “But there’s still a possibility that some people might find out,” Jack said. Especially if, as I suspect, Skye was watching and recording everything.

  Alicia frowned. “You think the other three knew about it? That they’ll talk?”

  “Yes, that’s a possibility, too.”

  “Too?”

  “Why do you think Skye made a point of going into the next room earlier?”

  “He had to have a chat with someone online. Obviously he didn’t want me to hear.”

  “Yeah, that’s what he said.” Poor kid. No use freaking you out any more than you already are. Especially if I’m wrong.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  A few hours later, Lexton saw Rose through the open door of her secretary’s office and waved her in.

  Rose’s conversation was short as she explained how Taggart’s plan had gone astray and how he had believed that the kidnappers were going to kill them both, so he’d tried to poison them all.

  Celeste O’Brien and a Skye Cunningham had succumbed to the poisoning. A third man by the name of Peter Powers was expected to survive, but with serious brain, liver, and heart damage. Two others, Derek Powers and Horace Romano, were in custody.

  “What about Miguel Hernández?” Lexton asked. “The person who we know supplied photos of our undercover operatives to Derek Powers. Was there any evidence on Powers’s phone?”

  “No, he was obviously expecting to be arrested. They seized his phone, but it was missing a SIM card.”

  “I see. So, back to the trailer. You’re telling me that because Sergeant Taggart saw a pickaxe and a shovel, he jumped to the conclusion that they were going to be killed, then tried to murder everyone?”

  “I think murder is a harsh conclusion,” Rose said. “We need to get all the facts.”

  “The facts according to Sergeant Taggart’s statement,” Lexton replied.

  “Derek Powers is being interviewed as we speak. Horace Romano will be interviewed shortly. It’s too early to be judgmental. Corroborating evidence to support Sergeant Taggart’s statement may come to light.”

  Lexton tried not to let her emotion show. “I appreciate that the arrests took place only this morning.” After I get the full reports from I-HIT
, I’ll take the appropriate action. “You can go.”

  A moment later, Lexton went to her safe and removed her file folder marked JT.

  You murdered two people and turned another into a vegetable because you saw some tools? They were in a hangar, for Christ’s sake. You’d expect to see tools in a hangar.

  She jotted some angry comments in the file, then returned it to her safe.

  * * *

  At 7:15 a.m. on Wednesday morning, Jack answered his phone at home.

  “Did I wake you?” Mason asked.

  “No … apparently guys my age get up early.”

  Mason chuckled. “I’m at the airport to catch a flight back to Toronto for court. Should be back in Vancouver on Friday afternoon.”

  “Good. Be careful what you eat. Keep away from those dirty utensils.”

  * * *

  It was 9:30 p.m. Wednesday night when James Deacon, alias Fat Boy, the sergeant at arms of the Devils Aces motorcycle club in Hamilton, answered his door.

  He wasn’t impressed by the man who flashed an RCMP badge. “Show me your warrant,” he demanded.

  “I’m not here for that,” the cop replied. “I’m here because our homicide squad out in B.C. has a suspect for the murder of one of your guys, and they want me to talk to you.”

  “Leo? They know who shot Leo?” Fat Boy asked.

  “Yeah … a Leo Ratcliffe.”

  “Come on in.”

  “No, come out to my car, where I’ve got the file.”

  Fat Boy got into the passenger seat. The cop was holding his stomach and rocking back and forth behind the steering wheel. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

  “Mild case of food poisoning. Shit,” the cop muttered, clenching his teeth a moment before reaching into the back seat to retrieve a briefcase. “Okay, there’s a picture I want to — shit!” He dropped the case and grabbed his stomach, rocking some more, then he started the car and put it in drive.

  “What are you doing? Where you taking me?”

  “There’s a gas station two blocks from here. I need to use the can.”

  At the gas station, the cop took a deep breath, then said, “I think I’m okay at the moment.” He opened the briefcase and removed a file folder, along with a yellow writing pad and a pen on a clipboard, which he placed on top of the console. He then took a couple of surveillance photos out of the file and handed them to Fat Boy. “His name is Miguel Hernández. Do you recognize him?”