Hung Out to Dry

by Hadford Howell

Colonel Burke spoke with Fred, Joe, Mohammed and Jayne following his discussion with JJ. He had in fact kept them waiting another ten minutes beyond that which he had asked them to return to his office. The four operatives knew that in the time since his meeting with all available BIB operatives in the conference room that Colonel Burke must have been working on something, but they did not know what.

  “Right folks. This, in my view has gone way past Houston we have a problem. I’ve taken some action that should start to alleviate the problem over the next few days, but I cannot tell you what I’m doing yet. So, you’ll have to trust me on this for now. I’ve spoken with JJ. Both he and Vanessa are okay, both understandably stunned at today’s rapid developments.”

  “This is all crap, sir. Sorry, I mean unfair.”

  “I know, Fred, but we must keep it together –”

  “Look, is JJ really off the job, sir?” asked Joe.

  “That’s what my copy of JJ’s letter says, for the next few days at least. But you all know that a lot can happen quickly in this business, so don’t rule me or JJ out just yet. BIB must quickly help find the two missing escaped prisoners and also assist with investigating the disappearance of Dr Lewis, on top of the ECC security project. Fred, I’m tasking you and Jayne with relating to someone I think you may know who is working on the RBPF team seeking the two prisoners’ recapture, Sergeant Billy Browne. Remember, he’s still part of Special Branch’s Visitors CPU unit and is at New Kensington Oval for the Test Match, but is otherwise also working on the prisoners’ escape investigation.”

  “And what about Mohammed and me, sir?” It was Joe, asking another question.

  “I haven’t forgotten you two. Check in with Johnny Vickers, your old boss. He’s leading the investigation on Dr Lewis’ disappearance. The PM’s promised the country that his security agencies will be able to resolve all of these recent incidents by this weekend, so all hands-on-deck. Commissioner Jeremie is working the St Lawrence Gap incident directly, so hopefully, between us all, we can make the Prime Minister a happier bunny than he is right now if we’re able to wrap up these incidents. Once we do so, we can all start getting some sleep again! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a couple of people to visit.”

  Nobody smiled as the four operatives left Colonel Burke’s office to contact their respective RBPF colleagues. Their ongoing ECC security project duties remained in tack and would hopefully continue running smoothly, enabling them to also complete these additional duties.

  Fred and Joe did not forget that they also had a personal assignment to complete for a friend and colleague.

  Meanwhile, although they were not listening, it appeared from the radio and television coverage of the Test Match that the West Indies team, in the post-lunch session, was beginning to claw its way into a position of strength. Only time would tell if that would continue.

  ***

  Once the doctor, detectives and forensics team had arrived, the patrol car team were able to take a closer look at but did not touch the vehicle or body. Cash was found in the car. A phone, along with a wallet was also in the driver’s door pocket which contained a Barbados I.D. HMP Dodds I.D.’s and a driver’s license.

  “They all carry the name George Telford. Hey, I know this guy, he’s the second man at Dodds,” said the lead detective.

  “You sure?” asked the senior RBPF officer who had arrived earlier in the patrol car.

  “Yeah, it’s him alright! I went to school with his sister. We also played cricket together for a St James side a few years back. God, what a mess this is.” It was the BDF soldier speaking.

  Before any further conversation, the phone in the door pocket rang.

  “Don’t answer that,” said the lead detective. “The forensic crew will need to attend to that later.”

  Everyone did as he said. The phone rang six times before cutting out. The phone could be a useful tool to help explain this situation. The detective realised that being a prison official, and a senior one at that, meant that this incident might have a bearing on the prisoners’ escape from two days before.

  The lead detective was asking himself three questions. Why had George Telford killed himself? Or, if he had been murdered as was possible, then by whom? Lastly, what was his death connected to?

  ***

  Dr Samuel Atkins, ICT lead and Head of SIR and Margaret Pearson his assistant who was his collaborator, were working diligently on the specific tasks that had been allocated to them related to the nine-day ECC security project. This involved monitoring and co-ordinating (if and where necessary) any special communications requested by any of Barbados’ law enforcement and security agencies during the short ‘sunset life’ of that project.

  Nothing unusual had taken place between the EEC security project’s Tuesday evening launch and this afternoon – at least not from a BIB perspective. There had been no need for them to respond to requests from BIB’s sister law enforcement or security agencies to date, meaning that they were not exactly busy. Wednesday’s prisoners escape, the CBOB Deputy Governor’s disappearance and Thursday’s early morning St Lawrence Gap attempted robbery and shooting incident, were not related to their role in the EEC security project or BIB’s other routine work.

  Samuel and Margaret loved their BIB jobs. They worked in a world of technology where they loved to test their skills – often against each other. Which was the quickest, cleanest (and meanest) was a game they often played among themselves. They knew that they were at their best when they co-operated and collaborated on set tasks. Their recent ICT work in the SIR had been nothing short of spectacular, helping BIB to achieve greater success by reaching higher targets that would not have been possible without the infusion of funds BIB had secured in the past year.

  Colonel Burke’s arrival in their SIR ‘den’ to specify the unusual task he wanted them to undertake, in addition to the ECC security project work they had been tasked with, was both exciting and extraordinary.

  Once Samuel and Margaret comprehended Colonel Burke’s ‘ask’, they agreed it would be fun. The ask enabled them to do something they had indicated a year before could be done, but had never undertaken.

  Their task was Mission Impossible-like but right up their street. They were to ‘poke around’ to try and identify anything through the country’s CCTV camera system that might assist BIB in resolving any of the three recent major incidents that had taken place in the country over the past forty-eight to seventy-two hours. The prisoners’ escape should take precedence. Any lead generated that was related to this matter were to be reported to Colonel Burke immediately and in person. In addition, anything on either of the missing CBOB Deputy Governor or about the two robbers, would be nice bonuses.

  With broad smiles, Samuel and Margaret stated in unison, “Yes, boss, we’re onto it.”

  “Very well,” said Colonel Burke before leaving them to meet with Hunter.

  ***

  Over in St Vincent, Power ate the late lunch provided to him having had a rest. He knew that for his own safely, he needed to continue laying low in his first few days of freedom in St Vincent.

  His host, Astor ‘Brotherman’ Delaney, was a man in his mid-thirties. He was the leader of a Rastafarian community group and had been instructed by a ‘friend’ to pick up a man from a Barbadian ice fishing boat just off the St Vincent coast earlier that Friday morning and to “look after him for the next few days”. The arrangement called for Power to be initially hidden by Delaney and others in his Rastafarian group.

  “How long before I finally get to settle down somewhere?” asked Power.

  “Depends,” answered Brotherman Delaney.

  “Oh? On what?” persisted Power.

  “My brother, when my Rastafarian brothers and sisters are told that it is safe to move you. I expect your police friends in Barbados will by now be aware that you’ve left the country and could be in a near-by one, possibly SVG. That means that we’ll have to be even more careful about how we keep you ‘under wraps.’
Friends of mine can only get me so far with those in authority here after which, we’re on our own man. Get me?”

  “Sort of…if you say so. But I thought I’d be good for at least a few weeks with you guys, months even? I expect your support would translate into not being interfered with by the local authorities, no? If I’m wrong, please get me to another island.”

  “Take it easy, Baje. We got you covered. Things will work out, don’t worry. My people are good. Very good. You’re pretty safe with us.”

  “I damn well hope so, Brotherman,” said Power.

  For the first time since Power left Barbados on the fishing boat, now nearly twenty-four hours ago, he wondered if he’d done the right thing coming to St Vincent.

  “Too late to turn back now,” he murmured.

  “What ya say, Baje?” asked Delaney.

  “Nothing.”

  “Right. Let’s get you to your first safe spot, Baje,” said Delaney. He rose to leave the converted container they were sitting in, just as the Land Rover he had earlier ridden in drew up with two persons inside.

  “Time to go, Baje. In another hour few persons except me, a couple of my people and my main man, will know where you are for the next two days. Even if our police boys and girls work out that you’re in Vincie country, they won’t be able to track you down within this period. Thereafter it could get more awkward but for now man, you’ll be safe here with my group.”

  “I hear you! You really sure ’bout this, right?” asked Power uncertainly.

  “Yep…as I am that Jah is looking over and protecting us all right now and forever,” responded Delaney.

  “Great, then I’m all ready to go. Lead the way,” said Power.

  Power started walking to the Land Rover, but Delaney did not follow.

  Power stopped and looked back.

  “Baje, my people will take you. I’ll see you again in a couple of days…on Sunday. Your ride will take you a few miles and you’ll then have to do some walking. You up for that?”

  “Yes. Two days, you say?”

  “Yep.”

  The driver opened the rear door for Power to enter the Land Rover, before getting behind the wheel. Just before they set off, a second person who had earlier been there, returned to the front passenger seat. They did not speak.

  As the Land Rover rolled forward, Power wondered what the next couple of days would be like for him. How would he get through them? He was not used to being in such a rural area, He wasn’t a reader, nor did he expect to have the comforts of a television. So, what would he do for two whole days? Perhaps someone would have a powerful radio which would enable him to hear what was going on in the world.

  Power spent the forty-five-minute journey between dozing and looking out of his side window as they went deeper and deeper into the Vincentian countryside. When the vehicle finally stopped, he was invited to get out. “This is as far as I go. You and my friend will walk the rest of the way to your destination,” said the driver pointing up into the hills.

  Power did as he was told. Two rucksacks had been placed on the back seat next to him before the start of the journey. These were removed by the driver. “Take one.”

  Power obliged. The driver passed the second backpack to the front-seat passenger who had by this time alighted from the Land Rover.

  Returning to it, the driver shifted the vehicle into gear and turned it around to head back towards Kingstown. He waved, shouting to his two passengers, “See you in two days. Don’t worry Baje, you’re in good hands. Sister Jas knows where to go,” before he sped off.

  Power was flummoxed. He had failed to observe that it was a woman who had sat in the vehicle’s front passenger seat. As there had not been any conversation during their journey, he had gotten no inkling that the other passenger wasn’t another man.

  His mood instantly improved when he looked over at her and saw how attractive the female Rasta was. This should be an interesting experience, though Power, reflecting that it would be she and not him who would be in control of their situation for the next couple of days.

  “My name is Jasmine Huey. My people call me ‘Sister Jas’.”

  “Jasper Power. Good to know you.”

  “Likewise. Come on, we better get moving. I hope you can climb,” Huey said setting off up the rugged path ahead at a good clip, rucksack on her back.

  Power followed her without a word. The second rucksack was now also on his back, but he was thinking. Maybe, just maybe, this woman will be good to me as we’ll be together for a whole forty-eight hours.

  They walked for another fifty yards before starting up into the hills. After ten minutes, Power was puffing but he observed that Huey wasn’t. He accepted that she was one strong, no-nonsense woman. It was therefore unlikely that he would get what he wanted from her.

  I won’t even try, was his final thought as he laboured after Huey.

  ***

  Once in his vehicle, Colonel Burke remembered that following his meeting with Hunter, he had promised himself to call Ryan Appleton at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Culture. He needed Appleton to quickly e-mail him a list of the accredited diplomats in Barbados-based Embassies and High Commissions known (or thought) to be responsible for undertaking security (i.e. intelligence) work.

  He made the call to Appleton once he was away from BIB HQ. Appleton agreed to respond right away. Strange, that’s the second senior Government person today to request such information, so something’s cooking, he thought.

  “What’s up, Colonel Burke?” Appleton asked.

  “No particular reason, Ryan, but thanks. I owe you.”

  “No problem. Anytime.”

  Appleton hung up, knowing that if Colonel Burke asked for information, there was a reason. He was just not being told what it was, like he had not been the first time around either.

  ***

  Forty minutes had passed since Huey and Power had been dropped off when the Land Rover arrived back at the converted container’s location. Brotherman Delaney was waiting outside, having already closed up the container and so joined the driver inside the vehicle.

  “All’s well?” he asked.

  “Job done,” was the driver’s response.

  Twenty minutes later, they had made the fifteen-minute journey to Delaney’s residence near Kingstown. The first thing Delaney did after going to his bedroom was to call someone he knew well, not as a friend but more as a collaborator.

  “Hello,” answered a male voice.

  “Task completed.”

  “Thank you. Any problems?”

  “None.”

  “Good. Let’s speak again after church on Sunday.”

  “Fine, I’m always here.”

  ***

  In a prestigious Cane Garden residence overlooking Kingstown, there was silence. The recipient of Delaney’s call was satisfied. He’d accommodated a requested favour from his Barbadian associate.

  They now owed him a favour in return.

  ***

  Samuel and Margaret knew they could not break any of BIB’s stipulated rules, regulations or any of Barbados laws in pursuance of their task. They would use the ‘free hand’ Colonel Burke had extended to them to accomplish their three-fold task as soon as possible. He trusted their judgment. They decided to follow where their ICT noses led them, but first agreed on the systems and methods by which they would operate to achieve the goals they had set for themselves. These included a review and final are-we-sure process before any significant findings would be taken to Colonel Burke.

  Truth be told, the ECC security project had to date not stretched them. Given the limited traffic they had seen to date, they did not anticipate anything sexy coming their way over the next five days of the project.

  Colonel Burke’s ask was going to be a challenge, so they got stuck into it.

  ***

  Just after Vanessa set off to collect their two children from school, JJ saw Fred and Joe drive up in separate vehicles, Joe in her BIB vehicle and
Fred in his private vehicle. Their arrival would lead to JJ being late for his meeting with Pilgrim at P’s Disco.

  Fred parked his private vehicle in JJ’s driveway, keeping his earlier promise to lend it to him. The usual pleasantries between them over, JJ thanked Fred again for his kindness, friendship and support. As they were about to leave, Fred and Joe indicated that they might call JJ later that evening. JJ did not let on that he would not be there to take their call.

  Fred, having joined Joe in her BIB vehicle, waved to JJ before speeding off down the road on their way back to their BIB HQ.

  “Don’t like how JJ looked, Fred,” said Joe with a frown.

  “You’re kidding me, right? He may be upset, hurt, but JJ’s a pro. He’ll find a way to deal with this stupid situation. A few days off will probably do him good anyway as he’s already worked pretty hard for the year. I expect the chief will have this matter sorted out for him…by the middle of next week, latest.”

  “Okay prophet, wise guy. I hope you’re right. Here’s a chance to prove how good your predictions are.”

  “No problem, Joe. Test me anytime. You know that I’m seldom wrong with my predictions…”

  “Yeah, right!”

  “But I’m still mad about this because I’m convinced somebody’s doing a ‘dirty’ on BIB – on JJ in particular.”

  “Who could that be and why?”

  “To cover their asses or distract us from something. Time longer than rope. We’ll get to the bottom of whatever it is, and soon,” Fred said.

  “I’m with you on that if what you say is right,” responded Joe.

  They continued their banter. Joe soon dropped Fred off at BIB HQ before heading on down to New Kensington Oval for her two-hour BIB management stint at the game.

  ***

  JJ was happy to be in the company of his fellow BIB team leaders, but truth be told, he was glad to see the back of them today. They recognised his unwillingness to ‘small-talk’ and need to have some JJ-time for himself. They were right. He did, but not for the reasons they may have thought.