Make it Happen: A Vigilante Series crime thriller

by Claude Bouchard

“We have places like this for special occasions back home too,” Leslie joked.

  “Do yours have bomb rooms?” Steve countered as he cut the engine and popped the trunk.

  Leslie pouted. “Show-off.”

  They climbed out of the car as Brian approached to greet them while Jerry sat at a table on the opposite side of the open space, his eyes fixed on one of several monitors before him.

  “A pleasure to see you again, Leslie,” said Brian, giving her a quick hug. “Too bad it’s always due to this kind of crap.”

  “Once we’ve cleaned up the world, we’ll have a party,” Leslie promised with a wink.

  “Looking forward to it,” said Brian. “So, no problems with the pick up?”

  “None,” Steve confirmed. “Dude arrived a couple of minutes ahead of schedule, I showed up, we exchanged our pleasantries then he left with my backpack and I left with his.”

  “Yeah, we tracked him to an address in Fresh Meadows,” said Brian. “Don’t know if he’s still there but your bag is. Did you manage to get any photos?”

  “Several,” Leslie confirmed. “You had no problems either?”

  “Nope,” Brian replied. “Same kind of scenario. I saw the girl arrive, got some decent pics, Jerry showed up a couple of minutes later, they chatted, switched bags and went on their merry ways. Last I saw from the chip in our backpack, she was still moving about. I hope she’s running errands and not making other deliveries.”

  “At least we got two off the streets,” said Steve then gestured to the concrete-walled room at the back. “Chuck’s working on yours?”

  Brian nodded. “That’s what Jerry’s watching. It’s a simple device so he’s almost done. Let’s get yours out and ready for him.”

  They went to the car and raised the trunk lid then released the latches securing the explosive containment box in place. While Steve hoisted the box out the trunk, Brian headed to one side of the bomb room where he unlocked and opened a small, heavy door. A minute later, the second explosive device was secured in the pass-through vault, waiting for Chuck Whittaker’s expert attention.

  They crossed the floor to join Jerry, arriving just in time to see Chuck, clad in a bomb suit, giving a thumbs-up on the monitor.

  “One down,” his voice came over the speaker. “Is the other one here?”

  “In the vault,” said Steve.

  “Great,” said Chuck. “If it’s the same thing, I’ll be done in ten minutes.”

  He moved off camera and soon returned with a cart loaded with Steve’s explosive containment box. Opening the box, he carefully removed the thermal beverage container and examined it briefly before turning to the camera.

  “Looks like the same thing,” he announced. “This really shouldn’t be long.”

  “What is he doing?” asked Leslie as they watched. “Disarming it, I take it?”

  “Yes,” Jerry confirmed, “But the way they’re built, he was able to easily remove the explosive core and just filled the container with nuts and bolts. Bottom line is, we’ll be able to deliver the same devices rather than the duds Chuck had put together. I was concerned there might be some control check in place allowing Al-Tashid to somehow verify the devices were the actual ones from his supplier. We don’t have to worry about that now.”

  “Got it,” said Leslie, glancing at her watch. “Good luck with the deliveries. I’ll head back to give Jon a hand in tailing Al-Tashid. We’re working on an angle to move in on him before he gets wise and disappears.”

  “We don’t want that,” Jerry agreed, “Especially now that we’ve confirmed he’s the real deal. Go on and we’ll be in touch.”

  * * * *

  Gore, Quebec, 11:21 a.m.

  “It’s Al-Tashid,” said Chris before sliding the phone across the patio table to Qalat. “It’s not a video call so go ahead and take it on speakerphone.”

  Qalat nodded and connected. “Good morning.”

  “It is indeed,” said Al-Tashid. “Beautiful weather and I am enjoying my daily Central Park stroll.”

  “What can I do for you?” asked Qalat.

  “I have just received confirmation that the deliveries took place this morning as planned,” said Al-Tashid.

  “That is good news,” said Qalat. “I intended to call you once my men contacted me but they have not done so yet.”

  “I am not surprised,” Al-Tashid taunted, “Which is why I arranged for the supplier to keep me informed. Regardless, there is no harm done but listen carefully because this is what I want you to do next…”

  * * * *

  Brooklyn Navy Yard, New York, 11:28 a.m.

  “Hey, Chris. What’s up?” said Jerry.

  “We have a bit of an issue to deal with,” Chris replied. “Al-Tashid had the devices marked by the supplier as some assurance they weren’t switched along the way. The bottom of both containers should have a small etching of a happy face and a palm tree.”

  “They’re right here. Let me check,” said Jerry, picking up one container then the other. “Yep, barely noticeable but they’re there.”

  “Okay, I need a distinct photo of each,” said Chris, “With different backgrounds so they don’t look like they were taken at the same place and, I need them fast. I’ll explain later.”

  “We’re on it,” Jerry promised. “You’ll have them in a couple of minutes.”

  * * * *

  Aboard the Junior III in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 11:31 a.m.

  Ben’s phone started to vibrate as he and Cora were stepping onto the dock. Glancing at the screen, he grinned and took the call. “We were just talking about you. We’re in Puerto Plata and on our way to the Ventura Grande to have lunch with your buddy, Ollie.”

  “Give him my regards,” said Chris, “But I have an emergency and I need your help.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” said Ben, signalling his wife to stop for a moment. “What’s up?”

  “If I have photos which I want to transmit from other users’ numbers on the private network, can I do it?” asked Chris.

  “Not a chance,” Ben replied.

  “Damn it,” Chris muttered.

  “You just aren’t smart enough,” said Ben then added, “But I could do it no problem.”

  “You’re an asshole,” said Chris.

  “What’s your point?” asked Ben.

  “I just received the photos now,” Chris went on. “There are two. I need you to send one from one number and the second from another. Can you look after this right now?”

  “Send me the pics and numbers,” Ben replied, “And I’ll have this done in a couple of minutes. You’ll see the transmissions once they’re done.”

  “You’re my hero,” said Chris.

  “Sure thing, buddy,” said Ben. “I’ll tell Ollie you’re buying us lunch.”

  * * * *

  Manhattan, New York, 11:36 a.m.

  In the minutes which had followed his conversation with Qalat, Al-Tashid had noted one call then another being made by the diplomat to the numbers assigned to his chosen recruits. Now, as he relaxed on a park bench, he gazed at the second recently transmitted photo and smiled. There was no need to compare them with the photos originally sent by the supplier. He was already certain Qalat’s men had the real devices in their possession. Not only were the etchings he had mentioned to Qalat present but so were the several innocent-looking, precisely placed scuff marks around the edge he had omitted to point out. Qalat was performing his duties after all.

  He gazed at his watch and rose to his feet. He would find someplace for an early lunch and then take a cab or perhaps the subway to Battery Park. He had more than enough time to get there for the two o’clock ferry departure for the Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island visit he had booked online a few days earlier.

  * * * *

  Aboard the Miss Liberty, New York Harbor, 4:27 p.m.

  Al-Tashid stood by the railing on the upper deck, gazing at the vast approaching cityscape as the ferry crossed the harbor back from El
lis Island to Battery Park.

  “Quite a view, isn’t it?” said a voice to his right – female, soft, sexy.

  He turned to respond but was momentarily taken aback by the vision awaiting him – tall, slender and fit, a redhead with striking features, sparkling green eyes and a dazzling smile. He had noticed her briefly on Liberty Island but she vanished in the crowds. He had tried to spot her again during the rest of the tour but she had been nowhere to be seen.

  “Did I say something wrong?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  “No, not at all,” Al-Tashid managed. “I confess that I am stunned by your beauty.”

  “Oh, you’re trying to make me blush,” she said, playfully slapping his arm.

  “That is not my intention,” Al-Tashid promised, “But you cannot deny you are a very attractive woman.”

  “Now I am blushing but thank you,” she said, “And you, sir, are a very handsome man.”

  “You are too kind,” Al-Tashid replied then winked as he added. “And quite perceptive.”

  She laughed and extended a hand. “My name is April.”

  “What a lovely name,” said Al-Tashid, taking her hand in both of his. “I’m Jack.”

  “You don’t look like a Jack,” said April. “You look more like an Alexandre, or an Olivier.”

  “I love your French pronunciation,” Al-Tashid complimented, “But I am Jack, or, that is what people call me. It’s really a nickname.”

  “What is the origin of this nickname?” asked April, her hand still comfortably enveloped in his.

  “I cannot share all of my secrets with you so quickly,” Al-Tashid teased. “Perhaps, if you allow me to invite you to dinner, I might be coaxed.”

  “I am tempted,” April admitted, “But my uncle is here on business and I’m having dinner with him this evening. I must get back to my hotel and get ready.”

  “I understand,” said Al-Tashid, clearly disappointed. “May I ask where are you staying?”

  “The Tower on the Park,” April replied.

  “Really?” Al-Tashid exclaimed. “That is where I am staying as well. Perhaps we can ride back together?”

  “That would be great,” April agreed. “I should even have time for a drink once we get there so maybe you can share a few of your secrets then.”

  Al-Tashid nodded and smiled. “Perhaps, though I may have to insist we spend some more time together before I bare my soul to you.”

  “We just may do that, Jacques,” said April. “I have no plans for tomorrow so, if you’re free, we might figure something out while we have that drink.”

  Chapter 12 – Thursday, July 7, 2016

  Manhattan, New York, 3:57 p.m.

  Upon their arrival at the hotel the previous afternoon, April had suggested she go freshen up first, after which she and Al-Tashid could enjoy each other’s company until her uncle picked her up for dinner. They has spent a lovely hour or so chatting after which she had promised to meet him for breakfast the following morning. Almost giddy with anticipation, Al-Tashid had opted for a quiet night in, barely even interested in the video clips of the crowds at Rumsey Playfield Qalat had requested of his recruits during their test runs that afternoon.

  True to her word, April had been waiting at the hotel coffee shop when he had arrived for breakfast. Having mentioned his daily Central Park walks, April had suggested a change of scenery and announced a car would be there at ten to take them to the New York Botanical Gardens. The day had flown by as they strolled and chatted, clearly comfortable with each other. Al-Tashid had found her to be clever, knowledgeable and witty, a true pleasure to be with.

  When speaking of herself and her successful business, Xtreem, which specialized in training and high-thrill activities, she had not come across as boastful or pretentious. Whenever he spoke, she had demonstrated interest without being overly curious or pushy, letting him say what he wanted and not insisting for details. She had not even pursued the subject of his name and instead had remained content to call him Jack, or rather, Jacques.

  They were now seated at a secluded corner table in one of the bars at their hotel, making dinner plans, when Al-Tashid’s phone chirped, announcing a call on the secure network. With a frown he brought up the phone and pressed on the screen.

  “I’m sorry, April. This might be important,” he said.

  “Go ahead,” she replied, pulling her own phone out. “I really should check my messages anyhow.”

  Al-Tashid nodded and took the call. “Yes, what is it? This is not a good time.”

  “We have a serious problem,” Qalat announced, sounding panicked.

  “How so?” asked Al-Tashid. “Please explain.”

  “The authorities are onto us,” said Qalat.

  “How do you know this?” Al-Tashid demanded. “Are you certain your information is accurate?”

  “Absolutely,” Qalat insisted. “After landing on Sunday, I was apprehended by some special government agents and have been held prisoner since.”

  “What are you saying?” Al-Tashid asked, forcing himself to remain calm. “How did this happen?”

  “It seems they managed to get the video you made and recognized me,” Qalat retorted. “That is how they found me.”

  “But that’s not possible,” Al-Tashid exclaimed.

  “They showed it to me,” Qalat snapped back. “They are monitoring your network. They cannot listen in on calls but can see when they are made and approximate locations.”

  Al-Tashid felt faint. “What about our conversations since?”

  “They forced me to play along in exchange for my life,” Qalat explained. “They are trying to find you and did not want you to disappear.”

  “And what about now?” Al-Tashid demanded. “What about this call?”

  “One of the men watching me has gone out,” said Qalat. “The other is taking a shower while he thinks I am sleeping. I cannot stay on for much longer.”

  “But won’t they know you called me?” asked Al-Tashid.

  “Ya Allah,” Qalat exclaimed. “I was not thinking. These are not regular police. They will kill me. I must go now and try to get out of here. I suggest you leave New York immediately because they know you are there.”

  The call disconnected and Al-Tashid looked up blankly to find April staring at him with concern in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Jacques?” she asked. “You’re all in a sweat and you’re as white as a ghost.”

  “It does not concern you,” Al-Tashid replied, attempting a smile.

  “Maybe not but something is clearly troubling you,” April insisted, “And if you think I’m just going to forget about it, you don’t know me at all. Now, what’s going on? Maybe I can help somehow.”

  “I don’t believe you can,” said Al-Tashid, “But I’m afraid we will have to cancel dinner. I must leave.”

  “Leave?” April repeated. “Will you tell me what this is about? Don’t go into detail if you don’t want to but tell me something because you’re scaring me.”

  Al-Tashid collected his thoughts for a moment. “That was an associate of mine. It seems some less than desirable people we had business dealings with are not happy with us and he was calling to warn me.”

  “Do you mean you’re in danger?” asked April, seemingly fascinated.

  “It is possible,” Al-Tashid confirmed. “That is why I must leave. These men may be coming for me. I was told they know where I am.”

  “Then we have to get you out of here,” April decided.

  Al-Tashid shook his head. “I have not known you for long, dear April, but I do not want anything to happen to you. I can look after myself.”

  “Dangerous men know where you are and are coming after you,” said April. “Don’t you think they could be tracking your credit cards and bank accounts? How far do you think you’ll get before they’re actually waiting for you at the other end? Let me help you, damn it.”

  “Why do you want to do this?” asked Al-Tashid.

 
“I told you I love thrills,” April replied. “That’s why I climb mountains and skydive and run a company to help others do crazy stuff.” She reached across the table and placed her hand on his then added, “The other reason is, I really like you, even if it’s only been a day.”

  “I must go pack,” said Al-Tashid, rising to his feet.

  “I’ll do the same,” said April, also standing. “You will let me help you, right?”

  Al-Tashid nodded as he tossed some bills on the table. “Yes, at least for now. We need to figure out where we are going.”

  They headed toward the exit when April suddenly stopped and exclaimed, “Oh my God. My uncle.”

  “What?” said Al-Tashid, looking around. “Where is he?”

  “Hopefully still in New York,” April replied, pulling out her phone. “If he is, he’s our ticket out of here.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Al-Tashid, confused but curious.

  “Give me a minute and I’ll explain,” promised April as she tapped on the screen. She waited a moment then said, “Uncle J, are you still in New York? That’s awesome. What time are you leaving? Excellent. I have a tiny favour to ask. Would you mind if I tagged along with a friend? Oh, you’re such a sweetheart… We’re still at the hotel… Five would be perfect. Thank you. We’ll see you then.”

  She cut the call and beamed at Al-Tashid. “We’re all set.”

  “What is going on?” he asked.

  “We need to go pack,” said April, taking his arm and heading toward the exit once again. “My uncle is flying back to California at six o’clock. I asked if we could fly with him and he said yes. He’s picking us up at five so we have to be ready to go.”

  “Flying to California?” Al-Tashid repeated. “At six? I don’t understand. What does your uncle have to do with such a plan? Does he sell plane tickets?”

  April grinned. “Better than that. He flies his own plane. Uncle J is filthy rich and also happens to be a pilot. He has his Gulfstream, or something like that, waiting at Teterboro. We’re getting on with him, no questions asked, and we’ll be across the country before you know it with no way for anyone coming after you to track you down. It’s brilliant, if I do say so myself but, what do you think?”