by Don Easton
“Let’s get back to why I called this meeting,” said Jack, with a sigh. “I met with Sy and he’s arranged for me to meet Cocktail tomorrow night.”
“You serious?” asked Dallas.
“Very.”
“Yes!” said Sammy, and he and Dallas both clapped their hands.
Connie’s frown dissolved. “Where? What time?”
Jack told them about the conversation he had with Sy.
“Any idea where the meeting will be?” asked Connie, becoming all business.
“No … and don’t even think of following. We’re not blowing it after all this.”
“Sy doesn’t even know Cocktail’s real name,” noted Connie. “How do you expect to find out?”
“I’ll figure something out. Seeing him is half the battle. Maybe I’ll get a chance to scoop something with his fingerprints on it.”
“That would work if he has a record,” noted Dallas.
“I’ll still need to prove it was him who killed Father Brown,” said Connie.
“We’ve got the strand of hair found in the priest’s smashed skull,” said Dallas.
“Defence could claim the wind blew that in,” replied Connie.
“I bet Gabriel or Noah will identify him,” said Jack. “Coupled with renting under a false name, it should make him look pretty bad.”
“Not to mention if you show a jury all the blood splatters up the back of the house,” said Dallas. “They’ll freak out when they see what a monster he really is.”
“I know, I’ve thought of that, but I need to prove motive. How hard do you think it will be to prove he is directly involved with the labs?”
“There is no doubt that if you execute a search warrant on him you will come up with the chemical connection,” said Jack.
“And the glassware,” added Laura.
“And unexplained income,” said Sammy.
“Hey, not to mention good old-fashioned police work,” said Jack. “With what you have on him, I bet you get him to crack during interrogation.”
Connie lifted the crucifix from her neck, kissed it, and smiled.
* * *
Jack and Laura spent late Sunday afternoon and early evening in Connie’s office, reviewing her entire file. Every name, every address, and every detail were carefully examined. Jack knew that something considered trivial could have the utmost importance later.
At seven o’clock, Jack glanced at his watch and said, “Time to rock and roll.”
Sammy, Dallas, and Connie wished him luck, but remained seated while Laura walked with him toward the exit.
“Wish I could come with you,” said Laura.
“These guys are not enlightened when it comes to gender,” replied Jack. “Strictly an old boys’ club.”
“It’s dangerous going by yourself without backup. I’ve got an uneasy feeling about it.”
“A meeting with no guns … hell, it sounds safer than what we’ve been through so far.”
“And no phones to call for help. Think you can trust the prospects to do their job?”
“You sound like you have trust issues.”
“Maybe I do. You’ve been acting funny these last couple of days.”
“Funny?”
“Not yourself. Everything okay at home with you and Natasha?”
“Is it ever,” said Jack, grinning to himself. “It’s great.”
Laura saw the sparkle in Jack’s eyes and smiled. She’d had a hunch and it would appear that she was right.
* * *
Jack drove to Sy’s apartment complex and parked in the underground lot. He was about to take his BlackBerry off when a call came through. He hesitated when he saw that it was Gabriel and checked his watch. He still had ten minutes to spare.
“Hi, Gabriel.”
“Hi,” said Gabriel, sounding exasperated. “I wanted to talk about something. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“I’m about to go into a meeting, but I have a couple of minutes.”
“You’re working on the Sabbath? Oh, but you’re not —”
“Couldn’t be helped. What’s up?”
“Noah’s been acting up again. He got in trouble with the police.”
“What happened?”
“Stupid kid’s stuff. He lit the neighbour’s fence on fire this afternoon. They got it out before there was any real damage. Another neighbour who lives behind us saw him do it.”
“Did he say why he did it?”
“I asked. He says he doesn’t know why. It’s plain silly. I don’t know what to do with him. One minute he throws a temper tantrum and the next minute he’s crying over nothing.”
“I’m going to be busy for a day or two, but how about I drop by and talk to him later in the week?”
“I hate to bother you.”
“No bother,” said Jack. No time like the present to practise being a dad …
* * *
Minutes later, Jack met Sy and went with him in Sy’s car to a multi-level public parking lot where Sy parked on the roof level.
“How long do we wait?” asked Jack, reaching into his jacket pocket.
“Cocktail didn’t say. All I know is we are to wait. Mongo and Munch should be along, too.” Sy paused when he saw what Jack had in his hand and said, “What the fuck you doing?”
“Rubik’s Cube,” replied Jack. “It’s something I play with when I’m nervous. Helps me chill out.”
“Don’t worry,” replied Sy. “Tonight ya got nothin’ to be nervous about.”
Two more cars arrived and Jack saw that it was Mongo and Munch. Jack, Sy, and Mongo got out and grouped around the open window to Munch’s car.
Moments later a van arrived, followed by another car.
Jack saw Munch undo his jacket and wrap his hand around the butt of a pistol stuck in his pants.
“Put it away,” said Sy. “It’s Cocktail in the car. Got a biker with him.”
The van and the car parked and Jack saw a man walk toward them. The man was taller than Jack, but had a thin build. He had a full, neatly cropped beard and a trimmed moustache. His hair was wavy and cut to collar length. He was wearing slacks, black dress shoes, and an open sports-jacket that showed a silk shirt underneath.
Jack glanced at Mongo and saw him slip the pistol under his seat.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” said Cocktail. “Glad that you are all on time.”
“Yeah,” said Sy. “This is my buddy I was telling you about. Jay, this is Cocktail.”
Jack stuck out his hand and Cocktail shook it and smiled. His smile disappeared when he saw there was something in Jack’s other hand.
“What’s in your hand?” he said, stepping back cautiously.
“Oh, sorry,” replied Jack. “Something I twiddle with to pass the time. Never have solved it,” he said, passing the cube to Cocktail.
Cocktail twirled the cube with his fingers and said, “I used to do these in under a minute. Not much challenge, really.” He gave it back to Jack and said, “Keep working on it. You’ll get there some day.”
Jack put it back in his pocket.
Cocktail waved over the two men who’d arrived with him and said, “Okay, gentlemen, the four of you will be frisked by my associates and taken for a ride. No talking until we get there. I hope it goes well tonight and I wish you all good fortune.”
Jack studied the faces of the two men who searched them. Don’t recognize them from any pictures of Satans Wrath. The club must be growing …
* * *
Jack, Sy, Mongo, and Munch were subsequently searched, placed in the van, and blindfolded. They were driven for an hour before Jack could tell by the sound of the tires that they had left a paved road and had entered a road that was gravelled and bumpy. Within seconds, the van came to a stop.
The side door on the van slid open and Cocktail said, “Okay, gentlemen, we have arrived. You may take off your blindfolds and get out.”
Jack did as instructed. He saw that they were parked in front o
f a small barn. The stench of manure hung in the air.
He looked around and saw that behind them there was a farmhouse near the road. Lights were on inside the home, but no other people were visible.
“Where are the bikers?” he asked.
“The others haven’t arrived yet, so I expect there are only a couple out at the road and maybe some in the barn. Which, incidentally, is where we are meeting,” he added, while gesturing toward the barn with a leather attaché case he was holding.
“It stinks here,” said Mongo, while stroking his goatee and looking around.
“Pig farm up the road,” replied Cocktail. “Shall we continue, gentlemen? Time is wasting, although it would appear that we will have a short wait.”
They entered the barn and Jack saw that it was divided in half, with a wall down the centre. A glimpse through a doorway revealed that the far side held a row of empty stalls and stanchions to hold cattle in place. The section of the barn they were in was open in the middle with empty pens on each side. A wooden ladder nailed to a wall led to a hayloft up above.
A room at the far end of the barn locked with a combination lock caught Jack’s attention. It wasn’t the lock that caused his adrenalin to surge. It was the picture of a hamster on the door that told him they were not on mutual territory.
Jack spun around as Balvinder, Fateh, Quang, and Rashard appeared behind them. Balvinder and Rashard each brandished sawed-off shotguns while Fateh and Quang held pistols.
“Cocktail! What —”
Cocktail’s chortle interrupted Sy’s panicked voice. “Sorry guys,” he said, “you didn’t make the honour roll.”
Jack glanced around for a chance to escape. His glance did not go unnoticed. Cocktail’s smile mutated to a sneer. “All of you,” he barked, “lay down on your stomachs and put your hands behind your back!”
They slowly complied, laying face down in a row on the floor.
Jack could taste the dust and particles of hay in his mouth as he lay on the floor. More of it caused his eyes to water, but he hardly noticed as he waited for the inevitable sound of gunfire to announce their executions. I wish I could write a note to Natasha and tell her how much I love her … and to say I’m sorry. Sorry that she will be a mom all on her own. Sorry, too, to my child for not being there …
Quang stuck his pistol in his belt and tied each of the captive’s hands behind their backs with zip ties.
Jack pondered on the use of the zip ties. Why didn’t they shoot us? This is the ideal spot …
Jack’s thoughts were interrupted when Fateh kicked Sy in the face and said, “That is for what you cost me the other morning.”
“Fateh! Wait,” commanded Cocktail. “Stick to the itinerary. You’ll get your chance. Let Quang finish.”
Quang picked up a short length of heavy chain and weaved one end through the bound arms of each of the captives.
“Gentleman, stand up,” ordered Cocktail.
They did as told and the chain was used to bind them shoulder to shoulder in a circle with their backs against a thick support beam that ran from the floor up to the ceiling. The ends of the chain were tightened and padlocked together.
“Listen carefully,” said Cocktail, “you will all die, that is without question. For those of you who are slow to grasp concepts easily, I will give you a moment to accept your fate.”
Jack saw Cocktail smile before whistling part of the tune to The Bridge on the River Kwai. He’s enjoying this, he thought. He recalled the bloody splashes up the back of Gabriel’s house and looked around the barn. Cocktail can do anything to us here ... drag it out for days … try not to focus on the pain. Focus on something else … Natasha … too painful … focus on an object … the picture of Harry the Hamster…
“Okay, gentlemen, your time is up,” said Cocktail, as he strutted around his captives with his hands clasped behind him. “The bad news is that you’re going to die, but the good news is you can decide how. It is all a question of economics. The richer you make us before you die will decide whether your death is quick and painless ... or long and slow. You see, I have listened to most of you brag about how much you’ve made.” Cocktail stopped to stare at Sy and continued, “Brag about how you made a million dollars …” Cocktail shook his head and added, “How very, very foolish you have been.”
“Fuck you,” seethed Mongo. “You’re gonna kill us, anyway. I sure as fuck ain’t payin’ you to do it.”
“Well, thank you, Mongo, for volunteering to go first,” said Cocktail. He nodded to Quang who approached Mongo with a dirty rag to use as a gag.
“Okay, you’re right. You win,” said Mongo, gruffly. “Let me go and I’ll give ya the money. I’m done with this stuff. I give up. Let me go and I’m out of here. Fuck, I’ll even leave B.C. if ya want me to.”
“Of course you would,” said Cocktail, “but you weren’t paying attention. None of you will leave here alive.” A bemused smile crossed Cocktail’s face and he said, “Open your mouth like a good boy. You’ll get a chance to talk later.”
Jack saw the look of rage on Mongo’s face turn to panic as the gag was tied around his mouth. The reason was obvious. Rashard had set the shotgun down and approached with a pitchfork, which he jabbed in the air toward Mongo’s face. At the same time Rashard was joined by Quang who held a barbecue lighter.
“The rest of you watch our first volunteer closely,” said Cocktail, “and decide how best you can spend your money before you die.” Cocktail gestured for Rashard to stand back and said, “Mister Quang, please demonstrate to our audience how painful death can become.”
Quang clicked the lighter. On the third click the flame erupted out the end and he slowly moved the flame under Mongo’s goatee.
Jack heard Mongo scream through the gag and saw the big man’s muscles bulge as he twisted and turned in an effort to get away.
Jack turned away as the smell of burned hair and flesh invaded his nostrils. Beside him he could feel Mongo lurch and twist his body as his muffled cries turned to whimpers.
Without warning, Rashard stabbed Mongo through the arm with the pitchfork, effectively pinning him to the beam. “This will hold the fucker still!”
The action caused the chain to tighten, jerking Jack back as a spray of blood shot out from an artery in Mongo’s arm, hitting Cocktail in the face.
“What have you done?” screamed Cocktail.
Chapter Forty-One
Laura checked her watch and realized only four minutes had passed since she last looked.
“I don’t see what we can do except wait,” replied Connie, watching her.
“You’ve been checking with OCTF? The monitors?”
“Everyone is up to speed. Nothing unusual on the wiretap. OCTF has a room bug someplace where Fateh’s guys are partying. Everything seems normal.”
“Do they normally party on a Sunday night?” asked Laura.
“I guess so. These guys don’t need to show up for work Monday morning.”
“Jack is right about one thing,” said Laura. “Waiting is —”
Connie’s phone rang and she grabbed it.
“Is it Jack?” asked Laura, hopefully, although reason told her that Jack would call her first.
“No, it’s Nicole Purney, one of the monitors,” replied Connie, putting her finger up to her mouth for Laura to be quiet.
Laura saw the blood drain from Connie’s face and her hand trembled as she passed the phone over to Laura. “You better hear what came over the room bug.”
“Play it back for me,” Laura asked into the receiver.
“As I told Connie when she called earlier,” said Nicole, “Fateh’s top guys are partying hard tonight. This just came in. I live monitored it. Here you go.”
Laura strained to hear every sound. She heard laughter and the sound of ice being dropped in glasses. A male voice said, “Our fuckin’ profit margin is gonna go up like a rocket.”
“Yeah, guess tonight we can consider all of the competition bur
ied!” replied another male voice.
“Literally,” said a third person, followed by the sound of laughter.
Laura gasped and said, “I’m coming down there, Nicole,” and hung up.
Connie stared wide-eyed at Laura and said, “Do you think—”
“It was a trap,” replied Laura, getting to her feet. “Jack walked into an ambush.”
“What was said?” asked Sammy.
“Party talk,” mumbled Laura. “Sounds like Jack may already be dead and buried someplace.”
“Jesus, Laura!” replied Connie. “Don’t say that. What can we do?”
“All we can do is wait and listen,” she replied, making no effort to wipe the tears from her face.
* * *
“You damned imbecile,” screamed Cocktail leaping back and grabbing a tissue from his pocket to wipe the blood off his face. “What if he has AIDS?” he yelled at Rashard. “You ever think of that?” he continued.
Jack watched as Cocktail rubbed the tissue hard on his face, pausing to inspect it before continuing to rub some more. When he was satisfied he had removed all the blood, he carefully examined his clothing to look for blood.
“I thought you wanted these guys to get good and bloody,” said Rashard.
“Next time warn me so I can stand back,” said Cocktail tersely. He looked at Quang and said, “Enough barbecuing for the moment. Take his gag off and see if he has come to his senses.”
Quang ripped the gag from Mongo’s mouth and stood back as Mongo slumped forward and vomited.
“Enough,” said Jack. “I don’t want to go through this. I bet I’ve got more money than these three guys put together. It’s yours.”
“Interesting,” replied Cocktail. “Where is it?”
“It’s hidden and protected. I’d have to show you.”
“Bullshit! Tell us where it is!”
“It’s in a storage locker.”
“Where’s the key?” asked Cocktail.
“My girlfriend has it. I could call her.”
“That isn’t going to happen. No calls. Tell us which storage locker. You will remain here until we break into it. If you’re telling the truth, your death will be painless and quick. I will leave it to your imagination to figure out what will happen if you are lying.”