Oh dear, he thought to himself. There goes my reputation. His people hadn’t managed to safely deliver Power to the location after all. What a pity. Unfortunately, it was not something that he could now easily rectify. Delaney sincerely hoped that in time, the person who had just called would afford him another opportunity to come good by delivering on another project.
It bugged Delaney that the assignment he had masterminded had gone awry. He would eventually establish why. He liked Baje and so his death or recapture would damage his local reputation, but only short term he had reasoned. His life’s experience to date suggested that, once given time, reputations could be rebuilt. He recalled his grandmother’s words: “Worrying never helped anybody.” She still held a special place in his heart as she had raised him following his parents’ departure for the United States.
Delaney did not think about the two calls he had ignored earlier. When another two calls also came from Veronica Ash during the night, he wasn’t even aware of them because he had turned off his phone and fallen back into a deep sleep after those initial few minutes of concern. He would deal with any repercussions that came from tonight’s accident after a good night’s rest. He could not change what had already happened. Tomorrow would be a day when he would establish what had gone wrong.
***
Power broke the driver’s-side window of a taxi that was parked in a residential driveway before hot-wiring the vehicle.
Its owner was Jenson Parchmore who heard his taxi being started up. Instantly alarmed, because no one else had keys to his taxi, he’d run out of his house in his undershorts (against his wife’s wishes). He saw his taxi being reversed out of their newly built driveway into the road before watching it disappear into the distance. There was no point in him shouting, or chasing after the driver of his taxi because he knew the driver was never going to stop.
Whoever it was, Parchmore hoped that they were only ‘borrowing’ his taxi to get home somewhere on the other side of the island. Perhaps the police would recover his taxi in the morning, hopefully with it being fully intact at best and at worse having only minor damage to its exterior and interior. A write-off would be most painful as his taxi was only six months old.
Once back inside, Parchmore called the RSVGPF to report that his taxi had been stolen from his driveway. His insurance company was notified next. Only then did he remember that he’d left his wallet underneath the driver’s seat. Idiot! It contained the takings from his island tour from that day.
Ah well, if the thief searches and finds my wallet, there goes the money I had to pay the men for finishing off the last part of my driveway, thought Parchmore.
By 1:30 a.m., Power was driving around in the taxi he’d stolen, more uncertainly than before.
***
The blockade set up to catch Jasper Power on the assumption that he was somewhere inside the Greater Kingstown area, had been established relatively quickly. Gomez’s teams at the main intersections around Kingstown would simply wait for a break.
Meanwhile, clinics, hospitals and police stations across St Vincent remained on high alert for any males entering their facilities looking remotely like Power or speaking with a Bajan accent. Such persons would be reported and held, with calls being made to Gomez and his RTF unit who would be expected to get to the location quickly to apprehend the person.
***
Gomez was ready to catch an alien criminal. From all he’d heard and read in recent days about Power, he did not think it would be easy. Gomez half-expected gunfire to be exchanged, preferably in an isolated area that was not too public a place.
Gomez pulled JJ aside. “I’m ordering my men to wear bullet-proof vests. Do you want one?”
“Yes please. I was going to recommend that move if you hadn’t. I’ve brought two weapons with me that I hope not to have to use. Tell me, do your people have written permission from Commissioner Gaynor to shoot at Power if there’s no choice but to do so?” asked JJ.
Gomez signalled to one of his RTF members to crack open the box of bullet-proof vests used when they were going out on dangerous assignments. Only then did he answer JJ.
"Not necessary, JJ. Our PM above him, gave his consent for us to assist you on your Government-sanctioned visit, so we have all the cover we’ll ever need. I’m sure your PM would do the same for me if the tables were turned, although he hasn’t yet had to do so.
“JJ, I don’t want Power’s apprehension to get nasty, as my style and preference is to do things fast, clean and quietly. My sense is that things will come together during tonight and that by daylight, your man will either have been recaptured or he’ll be dead. Greater Kingstown’s now been locked down as if a major hurricane’s coming. The only Vincentians you’ll find on the road are the boldest of thieves, serious criminals or vagrants. Quite frankly, I’m doubtful we’ll even see any of them now because since they have heard what we’re up to, they’ll keep the streets free. Their business is done for tonight,” concluded Gomez.
“That means –”
“Yes, JJ, Power should be easier to find once he’s still in that taxi,” said Gomez.
“Well, let’s hope you are right,” said JJ as he adjusted the bullet-proof-vest he had now received from one of the RTF unit’s members.
Gomez returned to monitoring the calls being filtered through to his RTF unit. The report that Parchmore’s taxi had been stolen from his home was alarming but not surprising given the current circumstances. It provided Gomez and his unit with details of the current vehicle Power was now presumably travelling in – its make, license number along with the address from where the vehicle had been stolen. This suggested that they were now almost certain Power was still in the Greater Kingstown area.
JJ moved away from the crowd of RTF unit members, other RSVGPF officers and SVGDF soldiers to find a quiet area where he could safely check both of his weapons and ammunition.
Whenever the time came for him to move, he would be ready…
***
Back in Barbados, among the things the night RBPF/BDF patrol vehicles were keeping an eye out for was a distinctive looking open-backed vehicle with unusual markings on both sides of the vehicle.
One of them covering the parish of St Philip nearly missed it. After running the vehicle’s license number through their on-board RBPF/Barbados Licensing Authority’s traffic computer, they confirmed that the vehicle PZ612 was registered to Arnold Rowe of No. 2, Markville Development, St Philip. Reporting their ‘find’ back to RBPF HQ, they were asked to stay close to their location but to keep Rowe’s vehicle in sight.
Back-up was on the way to them.
***
Around 2:20 a.m., Gomez received a call from Sergeant Rolf Boorman, officer-in-charge of the joint RSVGPF/SVDDF roadblock team that had been set up at the Leeward Highway/Cyrus Street junction close to Cemetery Hill. A white taxi, with the license number now known to belong to the taxi owned by Parchmore, had approached their roadblock but on being asked to stop, had quickly reversed before turning around and heading back towards Cemetery Hill. The driver obviously did not know where he was going, for he turned into a dead-end street in his bid to by-pass the roadblock.
Four RSVGPF officers and two SVGDF soldiers had made up the roadblock team. Half of them went in pursuit of the taxi. The team stopped at the top of the dead-end street, thus ensuring that the taxi could not escape the way it had gone in as it was effectively now cornered at the bottom of the street where it had stopped.
Boorman’s team radioed him for instructions about what they, or rather Gomez wanted them to do, making it clear that they were willing to act immediately to try and apprehend the escapee.
Boorman spoke to Gomez.
“Members of my roadblock team have the taxi cornered at the bottom of a dead-end street, sir. They could go in, but want to know if they should wait for reinforcements before doing so?” asked Boorman.
“Is the taxi the only vehicle in that street?” asked Gomez.
“Hold on.” Boorman checked with his team before confirming this was the case.
“It’s dark in that area, but they see no other vehicles there so believe the taxi is isolated. If I was the taxi driver – this man Power, I’d anticipate being surrounded by law enforcement people sooner rather than later. I might even choose to leave the taxi and try to make a run for it if I felt threatened. Power’s reputation alone suggests that he will make it difficult for us to secure him alive. There’s been no exchanges of any kind to date between my team and Power, so we’ve no way of knowing whether he has a weapon inside the taxi or not,” answered Boorman.
“Thanks, Rolf. I need your team to stay put. That way the taxi stays in that street. Under no circumstances allow it to get out. Take your second vehicle from the roadblock to the scene. I’m on my way to you. Be there in…seven or so minutes, maybe even five,” Gomez ordered.
“Got it, sir. On my way. I’ll wait for you at the Cyrus Street junction of the Highway. Perhaps you can send other people to cover the other approaches to the area, just in case the driver makes a run for it on foot,” suggested Boorman.
“I’ll get that covered right away Rolf. See you shortly,” said Gomez.
“Roger and out.”
Gomez looked at JJ. “You heard all that? Looks like we’re got your man cornered, so we’re in business.”
JJ nodded. While Gomez raised his voice to give a variety of instructions to his team, JJ retreated from them. Retrieving the secure BIB mini-computer from his backpack, JJ typed another brief update to Colonel Burke.
“Believe we’ve located the package. Hoping to secure it incident-free.”
The reply was instant. “GHBS,” which JJ knew meant, ‘Good Hunting, Be Safe’.
While JJ was putting away his secure BIB mini-computer, but before Gomez’s assembled team could move to the four-vehicle convoy lined up outside, Gomez gave a final warning to everyone.
“Remember, be careful once we’re out there. Be ready for anything, in case this guy has local help somewhere nearby, though that’s unlikely from what we know,” he said.
JJ did not rush to be among the first persons to leave the room. In fact, he was near to being the last. A now familiar voice spoke from behind him, “After you, sir.”
The person was none other than Corporal Monty Conway. Unknown to JJ, Gomez had assigned Conway to be JJ’s ‘protector’ for tonight’s exercise. No surprise then that Conway would be the last man to leave the room and was also expected to ride alongside JJ in Gomez’s vehicle.
Halfway to their destination, two of the vehicles turned left while Gomez, with JJ beside him and the fourth vehicle continued on the main Leeward Highway towards their rendezvous with Sergeant Boorman at the junction of Cyrus Street.
***
It was five and a half minutes later when two RTF vehicles arrived on the scene. Sergeant Boorman met them and they began to take in the scene from the top of the dead-end street.
***
The fact there were roadblocks all over the place did not surprise Power. He would have been disappointed if there had not been any. Obviously, the authorities were onto him and were intent on re-capturing him. From their show of force, they wanted to achieve that goal tonight.
Power felt he was now between a rock and a hard place. What should I do he wondered to himself seeing no other roads off the street he’d entered…Damn, this is a cul-de-sac, a dead-end street, would you believe it?
This resulted from not knowing where you were going. He made some calculations. Escape would be tricky. The vehicle that had followed him had stopped at the entrance to the dead-end street. There were a few houses, a couple of which appeared to be old warehouses, and a lot of bush around. He’d noticed the sign at the top of the street as he had entered it. Cemetery Road. Oh dear, not a good omen for me.
Those who had followed him were obviously policemen but they had not pursued him, at least not as yet. Power was sure they would do so once others had joined them. In westerns, they formed a posse to go after a criminal. He expected the modern-day version was forming while he sat there.
Power decided to ‘fight fire with fire’, if it came to that. There was no way he wanted to end up back in Barbados. The key was to wait and see how the Vincie police boys would play the situation by making the first move. Power promised to himself there and then that he would ‘give as good as he got’.
***
Sergeant Boorman spoke to Gomez once they were at the top of the dead-end street. “Your man is in the taxi at the bottom of this street,” he said.
They got out and spoke to the two RSVGPF officers and SVGDF soldier who had first arrived on the scene for about twenty minutes now.
“Any movement?” asked Boorman.
“Nothing that we could detect from here. He turned off his headlights once he realised that we had parked our vehicle here to block any escape back this way he might have had in mind,” said an officer.
“Does anyone live in these houses around here?” asked JJ.
“Yes, but not many. This area is pretty run down and is set for redevelopment by the Government. Most of the people who lived here have moved on, either gone overseas to join relatives or were shifted when other Government housing areas were developed around Kingstown. Little happens here now,” responded the RSVGPF officer.
“Except that something will happen here tonight!” was Gomez’s apt response.
Gomez worked the radio. His officers who had entered the area on foot from the other side of Cemetery Road were in position. On the way to Sergeant Boorman, Gomez had also asked for the two roadblock teams closest to their location to abandon what they were doing and to join him at the top of the dead-end street. Over the next ten minutes, four additional RSVGPF vehicles arrived with a mix of officers and soldiers.
Gomez assembled the twenty or so persons. Their plan to recapture the Barbadian convict was a simple one. Two of the quieter four-wheeled drive vehicles would approach the parked taxi vehicle located at the bottom of the dead-end street quietly, without any lights on. Once close to the taxi, they would announce their presence, call out Power’s name and request that he surrenders quietly. Depending on his reaction, they would respond accordingly. Law enforcement personnel were ninety-five percent certain that Power was still in the taxi. There were few places for him to run to or hide from them without being seen.
Gomez waited a further ten minutes for the ten persons outside of the two approaching vehicles to get into place on either side of the street at fifteen feet intervals before starting the operation in the street. Though they hoped the surprise element would help them to catch Power without incident, everyone was prepared should Power have firepower and use it against them. They would match him shot for shot should there be any gunplay resistance.
The operation started at 3:05 a.m.
By 3:15 a.m., it was all over. Anti-climactic perhaps, but happily so. Mission accomplished without bloodshed. How did it all go down?
Power was unconscious. His injuries had caused him simply to pass out in the taxi.
***
Power had tried his best to keep himself alert, expecting the Vincie policemen and soldiers at the end of the street to come directly for him sooner rather than later. When they had not, he’d decided that their plan must be to wait, perhaps for the dawn light before moving in on him.
Power had re-developed his plan. He would escape out the back of the taxi into the tall bushes that were directly behind where he had parked the taxi.
He was not focussed on the fact that, as a result of his having broken into the taxi, the cut sustained around the wrist of his left hand had slowly continued to bleed. The cut had also gradually opened up and in the darkened confines of the taxi, Power did not notice this or comprehend the overall deterioration in the use of his left hand, indeed the impact this loss of blood was having on his overall body. Hence his passing out.
The tugging at the taxi’s back doors caused Power to briefl
y stir but in his current state, he immediately relapsed into his unconscious state. Half-a-minute later, when the passenger-side window and the right rear seat window behind the driver were smashed, the noise caused Power to attempt for a second time to become alert and this was almost as sluggish as on the first occasion. Somehow remembering where he was, Power subconsciously started to reach for the bag containing the old Smith & Weston weapon Delaney had given to him at the start of his night’s journey.
Two things happened at once. His right hand did not make the move he wanted it to make. Certainly not as quickly. Nor did his head feel right. What’s going on, he thought.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said a voice to his left as Power’s hand felt the last of the sandwiches instead of the weapon. Despite the warning, Power persisted with his effort to reach the gun.
It was then that Power felt a gun at the base of his head. He also recognised that men were now standing in a half circle around the front of the taxi he had driven into the dead-end street. They were all staring directly at him with guns drawn and pointed directly at him.
Then the person behind Power spoke.
“Give it up, Power, you’re nabbed. I’m James Johnson of the Barbados Intelligence Bureau. My good friend to your left is Chief Inspector Trevor Gomez of the RSVGPF. The other people you see surrounding you are Vincentian policemen and soldiers. We ask that you come quietly with us. I’ve arranged a nice ride for you back home. We are keen to re-acquaint ourselves with you. You’ll be read your legal rights by a member of our RBPF in due course. Do you understand me?” asked JJ.
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