6/6/66

by JN Lenz

  Unfortunately the full twenty six stories could not be accessed directly, the first three flights of stairs out of the parking, led to a hallway on the ground floor of the structure. The accesses to the towers stairwell controlled by a scan pass security system. Proceeding down the hall, to the edge of the Lobby and the tower elevators, Clyde could see a couple enter the elevator with a access card in hand, he watched as the elderly man slid the card into a reader once inside the elevator. As the doors closed in front of the elderly couple he knew it would be nearly impossible to access the twenty third floor and Faol Dung, before exiting the tower he would go in search of a fire map of each level. The ground floor should be similar to the upper floors minus a few condos’ he reasoned.

  There was little else he could do at this point; he had no intention of drawing attention to himself, so Clyde left the building after snapping a shot of the floor plan with his Blackberry. Walking back to the rented van, he worried there were too few opportunities to eliminate Faol Dung. Although he had made note of the license numbers on all three of Dung’s Benz’s, he also noticed by the colour and depth of the glass that it appeared to be bullet proof glass. This and the dark tinted glass ruled out shooting Faol Dung while he was in one of the cars. With entry into the Faol Dung condo near impossible it became clear his best chance of killing Faol Dung would be from one of the opposing high rise towers. First Clyde would need to confirm what side of the building the Faol Dung condo resided on.

  Returning to the Motor Home, Clyde spent the remainder of the day searching rental listings in Faol Dung’s neighborhood, the listings would include a three bedroom condominium which was for sale on the third floor of Faol Dung’s building. The rental listings included five available units, in buildings surrounding Faol Dung’s condo. The following day, Clyde would make arrangements with a local real estate agent in order to gain access to Dung’s building. With his Blackberry in hand, he met with the female agent that was representing the property in Faol Dung’s building that afternoon, Clyde was able to capture several images of the condo layout, including the dual balcony on the unit. With two sons, it was highly likely Faol Dung would also be in a three bedroom condo

  All units numbered twenty three resided on the opposite end of the building that the real estate agent had shown Clyde, the emergency exit layout showed that each unit numbered twenty three, covered the entire west corner of each floor. He would use the Blackberry to snap a shot of the layout which included a large wrap around balcony attached to a Solarium.

  Returning to the street following the meeting in the Condo, Clyde would walk to the closest building which faced the west corner and Faol Dung’s condo. Two of the five rental properties he had found the day prior would be in this tower and might have an exposure to the Faol Dung condo. Pulling his Blackberry back out, Clyde called the number to make arrangements to view the two apartments.

  Turned out the same investor was handling the rental of both units, one call would be all it would take to arrange to see both units. The man on the phone was even willing to come that evening to show the two condos. After a diner close by, Clyde made his way back to the tower to wait for the owner of the two units, thinking he was arriving back early, Clyde would find the man already waiting at the front doors of the building.

  Oddly, parts of the conversation with the owner appeared word for word in the file, nothing important, just the recollection of a greeting. I noticed a few other files contained the same seemingly benign quotes, randomly injected within the lists detailed facts.

  “You Burt Wurflew?”

  “Yes that’s correct, thanks for coming down here on such short notice” Clyde responded

  “Not a problem, I’d like to get these units rented, they have been empty for two months now, one was tied up for a while trying to get a dead beat tenant out.”

  “That must really suck dealing with a dead beat, no need to worry about that with me sir”

  “Yes it does suck, that’s why hope you don’t mind me asking if you have a job?”

  “Don’t mind at all, that’s the reason for the move to Vancouver, my work. A promotion had me transferred out here”

  “Promotion eh? That is always better than a demotion I guess, where abouts you work?”

  “Out at the airport, I work for Air Canada”

  “You a pilot or something?”

  “No pilot, I run the maintenance hangar. The technicians service the planes”

  “Really, that must be something; damn, some of those planes are big buggers eh?”

  “Yes they are big”

  “Well here we are, this is condo number one”

  The pair proceeded into the first rental condo. The first unit turned out to be on a much lower level than the twenty third floors, this unit was located on the eighth floor and faced in the opposite direction to Dung’s building, so it was of no use to Clyde. They traveled back up the elevator to the second rental unit; the condo owner had pressed floor number twenty five after entering the elevator. This had Clyde excited with anticipation but again the condo was on the opposite side of the building, the Faol Dung building was not visible what so ever.

  The rentals looked to be coming up blank, he would explain to the owner with the two units that he really wanted a unit that faced to the West, and was high enough to see the setting sun. Surprising Clyde, the man suggested a unit he was renting to a Hong Kong business man may be available. The businessman from Hong Kong would not be returning back to Vancouver for the next three months, by that time he should have another unit to rent on a high floor and that faced to the west. That same businessman had asked the owner to sublet the unit by the month while he was in Hong Kong, if opportunity presented itself. Excited at the opportunity of getting into another unit, Clyde instantly asked to see the man from Hong Kong’s unit.

  The businessman’s unit was located on the twenty sixth floor of the tower, facing directly to the west corner of Faol Dung’s building. Clyde provided the owner with two months’ rent in cash on the spot, receiving the keys in return. After completing a couple of forms for the owner before seeing him the front door of the condo, closing the door behind the departing owner Clyde would note the time on the microwave, six thirty six.

  Walking from the kitchen to the balcony he looked across at the opposing tower, counting the floors from the ground up, his eyes would fixate on the closed blinds of the Faol Dung condo. Clyde had not been expecting to be so fortunate in securing such an ideal location to shoot Faol Dung. Returning to the Motor Home that evening, he retrieved the binoculars, infrared heat sensor monitor and the night vision goggles and returned to the condo.

  On that first night in the condo, Clyde would spend a couple hours enjoying TV for the first time in a couple of weeks, drinking the three beers that had been left in the fridge before falling asleep on the couch while watching television.

  Waking up early the next morning, he rushed to the balcony to look down at the windows and balcony of the Faol Dung unit, the blinds remained closed on all of the condo’s windows, there was also no sign of life on either side of the partially covered balcony. Turning from the balcony, Clyde was surprised to see it was only five twenty six in the morning, after making a pot of coffee, Clyde jumped in the shower before heading down to the rental car to drive back to the Motor Home. He wanted to retrieve a duffle bag worth of clothes, more cash and his high powered riffle from the ceiling of the motor home.

  The riffle had been smuggled across the American boarder years before he murdered Lance Lowey, at a time when he still traveled freely and frequently. The gun’s aluminum silencer would make the trip back to the rented condo, along with a laser guided scope with night vision capabilities. Loading the supplies into the rented van, Clyde would stop along the way back to the rented condo to pick up enough food supplies to last a week; he had no intention of leaving the condo until he had erased Faol Dung.

  There had been very few available images of Faol Dung on the web; he would
rely on a clear picture taken at the time of the opening of Dung Motors. The local paper had a front page picture of Faol Dung, along with local government officials in the ribbon cutting ceremony. As clear as the photograph was, it still only displayed a partial view of Faol Dung, standing half behind one of the dignitaries in the photo. Most of his face was visible, but it was turned slightly away from the camera, it had been over a decade since the photo had been taken, by no means would he have a crystal clear image of Faol Dung.

  Once back at the rented condo, Clyde transferred his equipment, food and clothes from the underground parking lot, where he had parked the rental minivan, to the upstairs rental. The rifle disassembled into six pieces, easy enough to conceal in a duffle bag, keeping the riffles existence from any prying eyes from tenants along the way to floor twenty six. The covered balcony of the rented condo served as an ideal location to mount the surveillance hardware, aimed squarely at Faol Dung’s condo,

  The night vision camera and heat imaging monitors, mounted nicely behind the smoked plexi glass railing that lined the balcony, there was still room for a couple chairs on the balcony, placing one high bar stool along with one low mates chair, allowed Clyde to sit while he watched Faol Dung’s condo.. There was the single lens unit, which sat on a tripod inside the condo; the specialized scope allowed for distances less than one kilometer, to be brought into amazing clarity. Inside the scope, a series of microprocessors digitally enhanced the image and reduced distortion. The night vision capabilities had the ability to store the digital images on a tablet where the condensed footage could be viewed on demand. There would be a second smaller scope whose tri pod set it just above the exterior balcony railing; it was here that Clyde spent the bulk of his time, focused on the Faol Dung balcony.

  Within a half an hour of setting up on the balcony, a man of similar age to Clyde walked out onto the Faol Dung balcony, exiting the condo using the swing door from the Solarium, one of three sets of doors which led to the expansive balcony.

  The man turned his back towards the corner of the balcony between the Solarium and the outside wall of the building, hunching into the corner momentarily before turning back towards the railing as he walked to the edge of the balcony. The man quickly lit a cigarette, letting it hang precariously from the corner of his mouth, as he walked towards the railing. If this was Faol Dung, he had gained a considerable amount of weight from the decade old image Clyde had of him, his hair was thinner and graying as well.

  There would only be a handful of seconds with a clear facial view of the smoking Chinese man, once at the railing, he would tilt the top section of his torso over the edge of the rail. As the man leaned over the railing, the downward view from Clyde’s balcony obstructed his face. The man was seemingly fascinated by the activity below, just leaning there, as he puffed away on the butt in the corner of his mouth. The cigarette remained lodged into the corner of his mouth as he turned to go back into the condo, removing the small stub just before pushing it into a decanter beside the door to the condo. His face would be turned towards the door to the condo; Clyde would only get a look at the back of his head as retreated back into the condo.

  That first sighting had Clyde excited, not yet sure his brief view of the smoker was in fact Foal Dung, the sting of a mole as he entered the rented condo led him to believe it was indeed the man he sought. For sure too old to be one of Faol Dung’s sons, what little he had managed to see of the man, looked similar to the photo on the web, albeit now a much heavier Faol Dung. Should it prove to be Faol Dung, the trips to the balcony would present ample opportunities to assassinate him from the opposing tower.

  The smoking man returned to the balcony a minimum of once an hour, for the remainder of that day. Each visit to the balcony the man repeated the same pattern of leaning over the railing, the butt hanging uninterrupted, smoldering its entire length, wedged into the corner of his mouth. There was only a handful of seconds during each smoke break that Clyde would get a clear view of his face, the man on the balcony was certainly fatter than the Faol Dung in the photographs. Expanding the images taken from the scope on the tablet, alongside the photos from the web of Faol Dung, Clyde was convinced this was older, fatter Faol Dung.

  Later that evening, pointing the thermal heat sensor toward Faol Dung’s, he would watch as the images of four individuals, moved inside the condo. The thermal sensor proved to be only effective on rooms on the exterior of the building, the living room, dining area, solarium areas of the condo, along with the areas directly behind the windows. Reviewing the condensed heat images, Clyde could make out three distinct male outlines, the fat Dung was the smoker, the other two male Dung’s were taller by about two inches and thinner. The female Dung was short and plump.

  For three more days, Clyde would watch the Dung’s waiting for the smoker to arrive back out on the balcony. There had been two occasions, when the blinds and sheers had all been fully retracted to the living room area of the large condo; the smoker could be seen sitting in a wing back chair close to the window, on both occasions. The portly woman, had walked past the window opening and looked to be in her late fifties, beyond that, Clyde could only see out a pair of legs, from a man sitting on a couch. The angle Clyde from three floors up cut a large portion of the living room off from view.

  The night vision camera had been of little use other than getting a better view of Faol Dung, smoking in the dark, on the balcony. With the blinds remaining firmly shut completely all night, there was nothing to be seen inside the condo at night. He had picked up Faol Dung on both the night vision camera, and the thermal heat sensor walking circles in the Solarium in complete darkness. At night when Faol Dung came out to the balcony to smoke, the exterior lights were always left off, perhaps preferring to smoke in the darkness, watching the Vancouver skyline and the lights of the cars below.

  After four full days and nights of watching the smoker, Clyde was without a doubt convinced it was. Clyde wrote,

  “There could be no better vantage point, than the one I was provided to shoot who was certainly Faol Dung, I will use darkness as my cover to make Faol Dung disappear, for good.

  After four nights of watching Faol Dung from the rented condo, Clyde decided he would murder the man on the following night, day five. He watched the frequent visits by Foal Dung to the balcony each day and night, the last cigarette usually smoked close to midnight each night. Shooting Faol Dung in the darkness would allow him to set up the riffle on the rental unit’s balcony, without being noticed. Clyde planned to wait until after eleven PM, to plug Faol Dung with lead while he smoked his last cigarette, ever.

  The morning of day five would be spent making the preparations for the night time sniper attack on Faol Dung. Removing all the surveillance equipment and clothes from the condo, Clyde would store them in the rental van in the underground garage. The remaining food and any garbage he had on site collected and sent down the buildings garbage chute. This left only the fully assembled sniper rifle, and a duffle bag to conceal the disassembled weapon once he fled the condo, following the shooting. The rental van was driven into a heavily forested mountainside, the surveillance assets would all be dumped deep in the bush, buried in the undergrowth.

  The van was driven back into the city where he parked it at a Wal Mart, close to the trailer park and the motor home. After removing his bag of clothes and removing all finger prints from the van, it would be locked. Using the pay phone inside the entrance of the store, he called for a taxi; the cab would take him back to the trailer park. Checking the motor home out of the trailer park, Clyde chucked the rental van key along the express way on the drive back to Faol Dung’s.

  Stepping back into the rented condo at twelve thirty six, the next two hours would be spent cleaning as much evidence from the condo as possible, there was enough food to get him by for the rest of the day. Everything was in place to kill Faol Dung later that night, as darkness descended, Clyde propped himself up on the taller of the two chairs on the balcony of the
rented condo waiting for the appearance of Faol Dung. During each smoke break, Clyde would align the cross hair of the scope on the back of the man’s head as he leaned against the railing, smoking.

  Each time Faol Dung appeared on the balcony, Clyde raised the riffle to his shoulder, following the man’s greenish image thru the night vision scope cross the balcony to the railing. Centering the crosshair on the back of Faol Dung’s head, Clyde could have easily killed him on each visit to the balcony. The scope also had the ability to zero in on a target by use of laser; Clyde would leave the laser turned off until he was ready to shoot Faol Dung, not wanting him to get a glimpse of the red laser. Keeping the cross hairs of the scope centered on the back of Faol Dung’s head as he walked back to the Solarium door entrance of the condo, losing his target momentarily as the man stopped at the pottery filled with sand, to dispose of his butt before disappearing behind the smoked glass door.

  Placing the riffle to his side, Clyde sat in the darkness waiting for the next smoke break, they occurred every thirty minutes like clockwork. By now the temperature had begun to drop precipitously; the increasingly cold night air had Clyde retreating back inside the condo to wait for the return of Faol Dung.

  Thirty years earlier, the bitter cold would not have prevented him from sitting motionless on a tree stand, for hours on end. During the years when we both skied, he would ski for hours longer than I could ever handle. I remember the crazy cold we encountered one year on a trip to Mont Sainte Anne, in Quebec, the temperatures had dropped to forty below Celsius, yet that fucking guy skied the whole bloody day, stopping only for lunch. Now as he pushed sixty, Clyde was finally wise enough to come in out of the fucking cold, age and the arthritis had affected tough old Clyde.