by Easton, Don
Jack hadn’t needed to hurry. Almost forty-five minutes passed before the door to The Toad’s room opened again. One Colombian carried the scales and a sports bag, while his friend carried the other sports bag. They paused at the door and the driver shook hands with The Toad.
Sweat dripping from Jack’s face made a wet spot on the vinyl cover of the seat and he wiped it off with his sleeve as the two Colombians approached the van and opened the rear door. Jack ducked down and heard the sports bags and scales slide across the van floor. He waited until the door slammed shut before quickly making his way into the back of the van and hiding behind the passenger seat.
The passenger door then opened, but the man didn’t get in. Jack heard the sound of numbers being pushed on the man’s cellphone. The driver’s door then opened and the driver stood looking across the seats at his partner.
Panic gripped Jack’s brain. He had hoped the two would quickly enter the van and drive away. His hiding spot behind the passenger’s seat was not large enough to conceal him completely. He had purposely picked the passenger’s seat believing that the driver would be focused on his keys and the ignition upon entering the van. Not standing there with the door open staring in!
Jack held his breath but was conscious of the noise his heart made. It seemed loud inside the metal walls of the van. He stared at the driver’s face, waiting for his eyes to wander to his location. It was dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t be noticed. Outside, he heard the passenger talking in Spanish.
The passenger then yelled, “Okay, amigo! I see you!”
Jack sucked in a mouthful of air and his grip tightened on his gun before he realized that the man, in his broken English, was saying good bye to The Toad.
Seconds later, both men got inside and the driver quickly drove out of the lot. They were barely out on the street when Jack saw the passenger bend over to reach under the dash.
“Okay shit-heads! Don’t move!” screamed Jack, while leaping forward and sticking the barrel of his pistol into the passenger’s ear.
The driver panicked, hitting his brakes and causing his passenger to slam face first into the dash. The movement threw Jack off balance and he waved his pistol back and forth at both their faces while regaining his footing.
The driver started yelling at his passenger in Spanish but stopped when Jack yelled, “Shut up or die! Keep both your hands on the steering wheel!”
Jack grabbed the passenger by the back of his collar and jerked him back into his seat. “Hands behind your head! Now!”
“Señor! No understand!”
Jack made a motion with his own hand behind his head and the passenger clued in.
Jack pointed to a side street and said, “Drive!” The driver made the turn and then pulled over to the curb as directed. Jack held the roll of duct tape between his knees and peeled off a pre-cut strip and handed it to the passenger with his free hand.
“Do it yourself! Over your eyes! Now!”
Moments later, Jack ensured that both Colombians were securely blindfolded. He then took out his cell and punched several numbers, pretending to make a call.
“Hey, Toad! Worked just like you said! We’re just down the street. Hurry up.”
The driver muttered something under his breath. Jack didn’t know much Spanish, but he heard The Toad’s name being used. Questioning the legitimacy of The Toad’s parentage, no doubt.
“Shut the fuck up!” Jack ordered, before allowing himself a moment to take a few slow deep breaths.
Jack then guided the men to the rear compartment of the van and made them sit on the floor. He taped their hands behind their backs and their ankles together, before knocking on the rear window.
Jack opened the rear door of the van and said, “Hey, Toad. What took you so long? Look at this ... I did good, yes?”
Jack then stuck his head around the back of the van door and lowered his voice and put his hand over his mouth and gave a guttural, “Oui!” He then leaned back inside the van and said in his normal voice, “Here, I’ll pass you the money.”
Jack slid the sports bags across the floor of the van, then gently lowered them to the ground outside where they could not be seen from within. He then said, “Yeah, I’ll sit with ’em for ten minutes just in case they get a call. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they say the right thing! If they don’t, I’ll see it in their eyes. Besides, mia hablo Espanol!”
Jack then closed the rear door and ripped the tape off the men’s eyes and mouths. He took the cellphone out of the passenger’s pocket and held it close to the man’s face. “If this rings, amigo, you say everything is okay ... or else you die!”
The men stared back at him. The driver’s wide eyes and the sweat glistening on his forehead revealed his fear. The passenger was different. His eyes looked dark and angry.
Jack put their phone in his jacket pocket and sat on the floor of the van. He frequently looked at his watch while he waited, ignoring the stares from his captives. After ten minutes he used his own cell to place another fake call.
“Toad ... what’s taking you so long? Thought you would have called by now.”
Jack pretended to listen for a moment, then said, “The ship’s unloaded?” He glanced at his two captives and added, “You want me to kill ’em now?”
The passenger no longer looked angry. His eyes widened and he whispered to his friend.
“Hang on,” continued Jack, “why not do it in another hour? This street is basically deserted.” Jack paused, pretending to listen, then said, “No...” while reaching around to his hip and pulling a hunting knife out of the scabbard. “I’ll slash their throats like you said. No noise, but that’s not what I meant. This street is deserted so it’s not like any of their friends will find us. There’s no rush. Why not wait an hour just to make sure our guys are far away from the ship?” Jack paused again and saw both men with their mouths open, straining to hear every word. “I disagree! Toad, if we just ... Toad? Toad?”
Jack cursed and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He stared at the two men while slapping the blade of the knife against his open palm.
“Señor. Please. I have children to feed,” pleaded the driver.
“Shut the fuck up,” said Jack, getting to his feet. “Both of you, slide together back to back. I’m gonna tie ya together instead o’ killin’ ya.”
They did as directed and Jack wrapped several strands of duct tape around both men’s chests, tying them together. He then used his knife to cut the end of the tape. A flicker of the passenger’s eyes told him it was noticed that he had placed the knife on the floor of the van while pretending to ensure that his captives were bound properly.
“Señor ... thank you for letting us live,” said the driver.
“Fuck that,” said Jack, while taping their mouths again. “I’ll be back soon to finish the job.”
Jack went out through the rear door of the van and slammed the door behind him. He grabbed both sports bags and went back to his car and waited. It didn’t take long before he spied the two Colombians creeping through the parking lot toward The Toad’s room.
Jack adjusted the focus on his binoculars and saw that each held a pistol. He watched as one stepped back from the door, raising his foot to kick, when the door unexpectedly opened in front of him.
A biker stood for a moment, with an ice bucket in his hand and his mouth drooped open. Jack didn’t hear anything but saw the biker’s head jerk and knew where the first bullet struck him as his body crumpled to the floor. The Colombians ran inside. A few seconds later, Jack saw one Colombian casually look outside before closing the door. Several minutes passed, and then the Colombians left the room and went to the parking lot. They tried two different vehicles before finding the one that the keys matched.
Their search for the money was fruitless, and Jack chuckled out loud as he watched them gesture and point in anger before running back to where they had left their van.
Jack drove out of his parking spot and saw the
van enter the main street and then drive off in the opposite direction. A minute later, Jack parked behind the motel and went to his trunk and put on some latex gloves and a toque. He walked around to the front of the unit and stepped inside. One biker was sprawled on his back on the floor. One eye was open, but the other eye had been replaced by a bullet hole. The second biker was sitting in a chair, slumped face-down on the table. Blood oozed out of his forehead.
The Toad was still lying on top of the bed, partially propped up with pillows. His chin was resting on his chest. Jack went over to check his pulse but realized that The Toad had taken two bullets to his heart.
I wish whoever taught the Colombians to shoot would teach me.
Jack went to the rear of the unit and opened up a bathroom window overlooking the back of the motel. Seconds later, his cell vibrated. He was expecting a call, but his nerves were taught and his body surged with more adrenalin.
“You told me to call when it was done,” said Lance. “Did I wake ya?”
“No,” replied Jack. “It’s only eleven. I was just getting ready for bed,” he said, glancing at The Toad. “How did it go?”
“Smooth as shit. Went down just like I told ya.”
“Good. Glad it went okay.”
“Man, I was a little nervous. Appreciate you sitting this one out.”
“Yeah, well ... maybe next time. What are you doing now?”
“Goin’ home and gettin’ some rest. Do you want the details?”
“Later. We’ll meet next week and you can tell me then.”
Jack shut off his phone and bent over the bed. Okay, Toad. Hibernation time.
chapter twenty-two
It was after midnight when Danny answered the phone on his bedside table. He saw Susan as she walked in and stood in the doorway. She had been sitting in a chair in the children’s room.
“Danny ... sorry to wake you, but I need help.”
Danny looked at Susan and said, “It’s Jack.”
Susan didn’t reply but stood and stared at her husband.
“What do you want?” asked Danny as he spoke to Jack but continued to look into Susan’s eyes.
“I need a friend right now. A good friend. Tonight, before the sun comes up.”
Danny paused as Jack’s cryptic message sunk in, then said, “Forget it! I don’t want you calling...”
“Please, Danny,” pleaded Jack. “Just listen. I’m really close to identifying the guy that did this to your family. He was at the funeral for Holly’s husband.
That’s how he ID’d us. Elvis identified him as the same guy who met Leitch in the park. Looks Indo and has a British accent. I’ve got a plan. I’m going to trick Damien into identifying him for us.”
“No,” said Danny quietly.
“You don’t get it! We can nail him within the week! He won’t be trying to kill any more babies!”
“Damn it, Jack! You don’t get it! I don’t care if you catch him! I’m done! I want out!”
“Danny ... you’re just ... probably PTSD,” said Jack, speaking rapidly. “Try to calm down and think about —”
“You’re fuckin’ right I’m stressed! So is my whole family! All I want is to get Susan, Tiff, and Jimmy the hell away from here — and from you!”
“Danny, I’m sorry. I —”
“Don’t ever call again!” Danny said, before slamming the receiver back down.
It was after one o’clock in the morning when Laura drove past a cemetery and then spotted Jack parked nearby on a quiet street as per his directions. She parked and then hurried over and joined him.
“What’s up?” she asked, glancing around. “You got the eye on someone?”
“No, it’s not surveillance,” replied Jack. “I lied.”
“You lied? Three or four days before I’m even supposed to start working with you and you’re already lying to me?”
“I just thought it would be easier to explain once you got here.”
Laura studied him briefly, then said, “Well, I’m here.”
Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, then said, “The other day you offered to be my friend.”
Laura nodded.
“What I need right now is a good friend.”
Laura looked at Jack but didn’t reply.
“Do you understand the difference?” “Don’t know what you’re getting at. Sorry. Maybe I’m not awake yet.”
“A friend is someone who would help you move.”
Laura nodded. “A good friend is someone who would help you move a body.”
Laura snickered, then said, “Yeah, right. Good one. So what’s really going on?” She saw Jack’s face partially illuminated by a streetlight. It was a face that looked desperate. A sense of dread overtook her when she realized he was serious. “Does this have something to do with who tried to kill O’Reilly’s baby?” she asked.
“Basically,” Jack replied.
Laura didn’t speak for almost a minute.
Jack didn’t interrupt her thoughts. What he was asking her was to risk everything she had.
Finally she spoke. Her words were a whisper. “If this is about the guy who attacked the O’Reilly family, then I could be a good friend.”
“Are you sure?” Jack asked. “I know you. I remember when I worked an operation with you in Alberta. You made me stop the car to rescue a gopher that was snagged on something.”
“That’s cuz gophers don’t kill babies.”
Jack nodded, then said, “Okay. We don’t have much time.”
“Who, when, and where?”
“Right now ... and he’s in the trunk.”
“You’re not serious!”
Jack quietly handed her the keys and sat in the car while she went to look. She saw the man’s body wrapped in a yellow plastic police emergency blanket. A shovel was also in the trunk.
“Oh, man,” she mumbled, then got back in the car. “You killed the guy?” she asked.
Jack shook his head, then replied, “No. He was already dead when I found him.”
“And he’s the piece of shit who likes to kill babies?”
“No, but he is a piece of shit. He’s a — he was — a member of Satans Wrath. If he disappears, I expect we’ll find out real fast who tried to drown Jimmy and murdered the guy who had my name.”
“What is going on?” asked Laura. Her voice sounded quiet but firm.
Jack quickly explained what had happened, along with his plan. Laura glanced into the back seat at the two sports bags, then reached over and unzipped one of them. She dug her hand briefly through a few of the layers of bundles of money before zipping the bag closed.
“If The Toad and the money are missing,” continued Jack, “it will look like The Toad ripped everyone off. I’ve already found a fresh grave. We’ll just make it two for the price of one. It won’t take long, but I need you to distract the security guard when he comes by.”
“Are you on medication?” asked Laura, sounding serious.
Jack shook his head and said, “I’m not crazy. This will work. Once I spread the rumour that The Toad was working with the Brit, it won’t take Damien long to find out. When he does, my friend will also know. My friend thinks Leitch launders money so it would fit that he could be involved in the rip along with The Toad.”
“Have you tried following Leitch?”
“Ask Elvis about that. They did, along with I-HIT. They got burned. Leitch would have warned the Brit. Whoever this guy is, he has to have a lot of clout to get Leitch to show him secret police reports before the bikers even see them. You can bet he’ll be extremely cautious. I doubt that any future surveillance on Leitch would be successful.”
“But your friend could find out through Damien?”
“If Damien knows, then my friend will know. I want to put all the heat on The Toad and spread the rumour that The Toad, Leitch, and the Brit are in cahoots. With The Toad gone, Damien should step back into power. In the unlikely event my source isn’t made privy to the Brit’
s identity, Damien might be willing to help me. He’ll think it’s in our common interests. He’ll want the money and revenge, and we want the Brit.”
“Really?” said Laura. “Damien might help you?” Jack caught her suspicious look and said, “He’s helped me before.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Don’t even go there.”
Laura studied Jack’s face for a moment, then said, “So how do you get Damien to think the heat was on The Toad? He’s not stupid.”
“I’ll put word out that we were working on The Toad when he led us to the Brit and Leitch. One of our narcs is supplying info to Satans Wrath.”
“I know. Elvis told me.”
“If the info comes to Damien through the dirty narc, he’ll be inclined to believe it’s true. Especially with The Toad and the money disappearing. To protect my friend, I’ll indicate my informant is a hooker who was servicing The Toad. I’ll say she saw The Toad meet with the Brit who then met with Leitch that day in the park. Damien won’t know what to think.”
“What about the Colombians?”
“They barely speak English. Everyone will be confused. It doesn’t really matter. What counts is that Damien will grab Leitch and find out who the Brit is. I know this isn’t exactly by the book, but...”
“By the book? Oh, man! It is in the book. The Criminal Code of Canada! We’ll both end up in the crow-bar hotel.”
“Not if we’re careful. But I understand. If you want to back out, go ahead. This is the only plan I could come up with to protect my source and find out who the Brit is.”
“So you plan to lie to everyone about this hooker and the park thing?”
“Satans Wrath have too many of their own sources and are always developing new ones. I don’t believe in telling our people anything that isn’t necessary for them to know.”
“Did it ever occur to you that you might have a trust issue?”
“I always have a trust issue.”
“Glad you recognize it. Maybe there’s a twelve-step program you could take.”
“There is. I can walk past a dozen tombstones of people who died because someone trusted the wrong person.”