Dead Ends

by Don Easton

  “I copied your idea of using an incendiary bomb on a shelf like you do in your labs. I rigged a more complicated and hidden triggering mechanism, though. I would need to show you the carboy to point out exactly how I have incorporated the device that would set it off.”

  “He’s lying,” said Balvinder. “He would be afraid of burning his money.”

  “Fireproof safe,” said Jack. “There are other documents … names … that I wanted destroyed rather than fall into the hands of certain enemies. The safe I could actually afford to lose, but not the names.”

  “Your carboy and layout mimics the setup in the labs?”

  “Yes, except I used a mercury switch so that motion will set off a blasting cap to trigger the contents of the carboy. I also installed two tripwires.”

  “Mercury switch and two tripwires … I’m impressed,” replied Cocktail. “You are somewhat more sophisticated than your dysfunctional friends.”

  Jack shrugged in response.

  “So tell me, where exactly are these tripwires?”

  “My carboy is in the middle of a shelf above the safe. There are loose boards scattered about that have to be moved to get to either the safe or the cardboard file folder containing my documents. One board has a tripwire to the left of the carboy, no … the right … maybe the left. The one on the floor by the safe is the opposite.”

  “Which is it?” demanded Cocktail.

  “He’s lyin’,” said Rashard.

  “I’m not lying. I’ve seen what you would do to me if I was. Even worse if one of you got hurt getting it. The trouble is, I’m dyslexic. If I was in the room with the carboy I could describe it accurately, but to try and tell you by memory … I’m afraid I would make a mistake. Take me to the locker and I could tell you.”

  “You’re not leaving here,” said Cocktail. “Not alive, at least. You said the layout mimics our labs.” He looked at Quang and said, “Take him over to your lab, but leave his hands tied behind his back.” Cocktail looked at Jack and said, “You can verbalize or gesture to us exactly how you have supposedly done this.”

  Jack was released from the chain, but his hands remained tied behind his back with the zip-tie. Sy, Mongo, and Munch remained padlocked around the beam.

  Quang headed for the locked room and Balvinder grabbed Jack by the arm as they followed.

  Jack glanced behind him and saw Rashard aim a pistol at his head. Cocktail followed behind Rashard while Fateh remained with the other prisoners.

  Jack stood quietly with his head slumped on his chest as Quang undid the lock and opened the door slightly, before reaching up to pull down the lever.

  Jack reacted instantly by kicking Quang in the middle of his back, propelling him into the room, before tumbling to one side as a loud whoosh, accompanied by a huge fireball, engulfed the room.

  Quang, a distorted image of a human fireball turned to run and slammed into Balvinder and Rashard. Jack was already on his feet, running to the nearest doorway, which led to the other side of the barn.

  “Shoot him! Shoot him!” screamed Cocktail through a fog of smoke and fire.

  Jack glanced back and saw Quang and Rashard both rolling on the floor while Balvinder jumped around them yelling for them to roll faster.

  Jack burst through the doorway and saw a large sliding door in front of him. It was closed and with his hands tied behind his back, he knew he couldn’t open it in time. He looked at the empty stanchions and a gutter used to collect manure. At the far end of the barn, three planks nailed together made a ramp up to a door made of rough boards.

  Jack raced up the ramp and kicked the door. It burst open immediately and he found himself on a ramp leading to a pile of manure. Beyond the pile was an open yard leading to a large hangar-styled building that was open on all sides. At one end of the building was a tractor and a hay baler. Outside the building stood a large, overhead gravity-fed tank of gas.

  Jack glanced behind him. Screaming through the smoke and crackling fire told him that Quang was being dragged out the front entrance of the barn. Footsteps pounding through the barn said others were coming his way.

  He looked back at the hangar and saw that the rest of building was filled with rows of bales of hay, stacked to roof level. It will take about ten seconds to make it to the hangar. Maybe longer. Can I make it? The hangar has nothing but field around it. No place to run to …

  Balvinder and Rashard, with guns in hand, burst out onto the ramp, followed seconds later by Fateh and Cocktail.

  “The fucker is hiding in the storage hangar,” yelled Rashard.

  Balvinder glanced back inside the barn and said, “What about our three prisoners?”

  “Let them burn to death,” replied Cocktail. “Murder will be hard to prove, besides, it was Jay who started the fire, not us.”

  “The fucking neighbours are bound to see the fire,” continued Rashard. “We might never find him before the cops and fire department show up.”

  “Then torch the hangar, too,” yelled Cocktail. “There’s farm equipment in there, better yet, that’s an overhead gas tank beside the hangar. Use it!”

  Moments later, another large whoosh of flame erupted as the hangar, fuelled by gas, turned the building into an inferno.

  Jack squirmed out from underneath the plank and peeked over the manure pile. Cocktail, Balvinder, and Rashard were watching different corners of the hangar. Within seconds, all the hay was burning. No living creature could survive inside.

  Jack stumbled back into the barn and crouched low as he ran back through the barn. In the dense smoke and heat, he saw Sy, Mongo, and Munch. They had dropped to the ground, fighting and kicking in an unsuccessful attempt to free themselves. Their lungs choked and gasped for air while the roar of the fire sounded like a jet engine screaming around them.

  Jack kicked a window and used his foot to hook a piece of shattered glass and pull it inside.

  “Jay! Help us!” coughed Sy.

  “I will,” replied Jack. “Give me a minute to free myself,” he said, plunking himself down on the floor. He picked up the broken glass with his fingers and feverishly sawed away at the zip tie. Precious seconds ticked past and his fingers became slippery with blood.

  “Jay! Look out!” yelled Sy.

  Jack saw Cocktail charging at him with a pitchfork as the zip tie broke. He didn’t have time to get up. His eyes met Cocktail and he saw the blind rage.

  “You’re dead!” screamed Cocktail.

  Jack was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He rested his elbow on his knee with his arm extended upward. Jack’s face and open chest looked like an easy target and Cocktail lunged at it with the pitchfork.

  A look of surprise crossed Cocktail’s face when Jack used his arm to knock the pitchfork to one side, while grabbing the wooden shaft with his other hand and giving it a tug as if to pull it from Cocktail’s grasp.

  Cocktail responded as most people would. He yanked hard on the pitchfork. It was what Jack had been waiting for. The movement gave Jack the momentum to rise with the pitchfork and propel himself forward, knocking Cocktail to the floor, with himself on top.

  Jack punched him viciously five times in the face. Cocktail let go of the pitchfork and Jack pressed the wooden handle across his throat and leaned on it with all his weight.

  “Help us,” pleaded Mongo behind him. “We’re burning …”

  Cocktail lost consciousness and Jack continued to press down.

  “Jay! Come on!” said Sy, barely able to cough out the words.

  Jack cursed and scrambled across the floor to the broken window. He grabbed two shards of glass and used one to free Sy. When he did, he said, “Grab the other piece and help me.”

  As Mongo and Munch got free, Jack heard Cocktail yell and saw him moving on all fours, like a crab, as he grabbed his attaché case and scurried away, disappearing into the smoke on the far side of the barn. His screams alerted Balvinder, Rashard, and Fateh.

  Jack, Sy, Mongo, and Munch ran out the front do
or. Munch stumbled over Quang’s smouldering body, got to his feet, and followed the others. Jack quickly checked the van they had arrived in … no keys in the ignition. A scream from Balvinder said they had been spotted.

  “Run for it!” yelled Jack, while darting for the darkness away from the lights of the farm.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Police and fire department crews were on the scene soon after a neighbour reported hearing an explosion and seeing the fire. The fire department soon realized there was nothing they could do to save the barn or the storage hangar behind it. They did discover a burned and unconscious figure lying in the barnyard. Despite third degree burns to half his body, he was still alive and an ambulance rushed him away.

  A police officer saw a pickup truck drive into the yard and a man ran over to speak to him.

  “I live over there,” he yelled, pointing off to a neighbouring farm.

  “You the fellow who reported this?”

  “Nope. The sirens woke me up. Then someone stole my flatbed truck and took off in it. I got dressed and came over to tell you. Happened ten or fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Did you call it in?”

  “No, I could see your flashing lights so I thought maybe you caught the guy.”

  “I didn’t see it, but I’ll radio it in.” The officer paused and asked, “Had you left the keys in the ignition?”

  “No, of course not. I leave them in the ashtray.”

  “Brilliant.”

  * * *

  Laura answered her BlackBerry on the first ring.

  “Hi, Princess. Calling to let you know I’m still above ground.”

  Laura burst out crying, but Jack continued, “Some bad shit came down tonight. Cocktail went in with Balvinder, Fateh, Rashard, and Quang and tried to set us up.”

  “Where are you?” she asked, as the release of tension brought more tears.

  “At a gas station on the Number One highway near Clearbrook. I borrowed someone’s truck, but decided to ditch it. I need a ride. Sy, Mongo, and Munch are with me, but they are contacting their own people.”

  After Jack gave Laura directions, he hung up and the four men walked a short distance from the gas station to a place they could stand in darkness and wait.

  Jack saw the blood dripping from Mongo’s hand and said, “Your arm is going to need medical attention.”

  “Fuckin’ tell me about it. That fuckin’ Rashard must have hit an artery. There’s a hospital in Abbotsford. I’ll get my guys to take me there.”

  “When the cops locate that flatbed and find your blood in it, they might check the local hospitals. Not to mention, they’re liable to show up there with Quang. You should pick a hospital that’s farther away.”

  Mongo nodded his head in agreement and said, “Good thinkin’. Thanks.”

  “Let me take a look at it,” said Jack. “I may need to rip your shirt and use it to stop the bleeding.”

  Mongo agreed.

  Jack tended to his arm and as he worked on it, he said, “It might be in everyone’s best interests to find new places to sleep and lay low for awhile until we sort this out.”

  “Lay low!” replied Mongo. “Fuck that! Somehow I’m gonna find Cocktail. He’s the one who set us up. Then I’m gonna take Rashard and —”

  “Who is Cocktail?” asked Jack. “What’s his real name?”

  Sy, Mongo and Munch each looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

  “Nobody knows who he really is,” said Sy. “He came to us through Satans Wrath.”

  “Speaking of fucking Satans Wrath,” said Munch, looking at Sy and Mongo, “looks like we’re at war with them, too. Better tell our people to start spraying the shit out of those guys.”

  “Guess so,” replied Mongo.

  Jack swallowed. He knew that as things stood, the risk to every man, woman and child living in the lower mainland would equate to living in a war zone.

  He also knew Damien and thought about how tonight’s ambush had been planned. Damien is too professional to get into an all out war with these bunch of losers if he can avoid it. Will attract too much heat … which is why I didn’t recognize the so-called prospects tonight. Damien made himself a buffer of deniability …

  Jack thought over his next response. As much as I’d like the bikers to take a few bullets, I can’t risk the possibility of an innocent person getting hurt by mistake. No more thinking required …I have to do what is right …

  “Did any of you guys recognize the bikers who searched us tonight when we met Cocktail?” asked Jack.

  Sy, Mongo, and Munch shook their heads.

  “Before you start shooting up the streets, it might be a good idea to find out if Satans Wrath knew about it,” suggested Jack. “Is it possible that Cocktail and these other guys set it up on their own, hoping to get a bigger slice of the action?”

  “Possible,” conceded Munch.

  “How the hell do we find out?” asked Sy.

  “Simply wait,” replied Jack. “Satans Wrath will make their intentions known soon. They aren’t the types who are known for doing drive-bys or spraying restaurants with bullets.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Sy.

  “For the next couple of days I suggest you hide,” replied Jack. “Satans Wrath won’t let this sit. They’ll do something soon. You’ve all got enough people working for you that if the bikers are at war with you, some of them will get whacked. If Cocktail did act on his own, Satans Wrath will deal with him.”

  “You sound like you know these guys pretty good,” said Munch, suspiciously.

  “Satans Wrath? Hell, yes. They’re back east, as well. All over the globe. I know lots of gangs who have had encounters with them.”

  “Maybe Jay is right,” said Sy. “Tonight is the first time that two bikers showed up where I didn’t know either one of ’em.”

  “I would like to find Cocktail,” said Jack. “After tonight, I owe him one.”

  “We all fuckin’ owe him one,” said Mongo.

  “Something about Cocktail looked familiar,” said Jack. “I could have seen him at a party someplace or perhaps a restaraunt. I’m not sure, but maybe I could help find out who he is or where he lives.”

  “That would be great,” said Sy. “We definitely gotta put that fuckin’ devil in the hole!”

  “I get first dibs,” said Mongo, pointing to his arm. “Gonna blow his balls off first and let him crawl around before I gut-shoot him. After that, I’ll put one up his ass. Same for Rashard. You guys can do Balvinder and Fateh. Quang, too, if he ain’t already gook food.”

  “Whatever,” replied Jack. “But for now, find a safe place to hide out and we’ll all text each other so the four of us are kept in the loop.”

  * * *

  The Major Crime Unit, housed in Surrey, was normally a thirty-minute drive from where Jack was calling from. Laura arrived in seventeen minutes and drove Jack to Connie’s office so he could give a complete account of what had happened. On the way back, Laura asked Jack for the details. He told her to wait so he wouldn’t have to repeat everything a few minutes later.

  As soon as they arrived at the Major Crime Unit, Jack retrieved a couple of bandages from a first aid kit and went to the washroom to attend to the minor cuts on his fingers and wash the manure off his clothes and body. It was Laura’s next clue that something was amiss.

  The blood on Jack’s fingers had already started to dry. She was surprised that he even thought of his fingers over the urgency of giving everyone the details of what had occurred. He is taking time to decide what to tell us … and what not to tell us …

  Jack had glimpsed the licence plate of the van that drove them to Quang’s farm and Laura checked it while Jack was in the washroom. It turned out to be registered to Quang and she gave Jack the bad news when he returned.

  Connie sat behind her desk while Jack, Laura, and Sammy pulled up chairs. Everyone listened quietly as Jack roughly outlined what had transpired. When he finished, he leaned forw
ard and picked up a photo from Connie’s file.

  Laura saw that it was a photo of Amanda Flowers, taken in the hospital emergency room shortly after she had been attacked. Jack studied the photograph intently, before gazing off into space as if trying to figure something out … or perhaps make a decision.

  “Anything back on Quang’s injuries?” asked Laura, hoping to give her partner more time.

  “A member from MCU is at the hospital,” said Connie. “The doctors think Quang will live, although they are worried about infection setting in. It will take years of surgery for him to recover fully. It will be a long, painful process and he’ll still end up with a face that looks like a can of smashed worms.”

  “Too bad we couldn’t slap him into a jail cell, too,” said Sammy.

  “Or the rest of them for attempted murder,” added Connie. She looked at Jack and said, “Do you want to reconsider? If you could testify it —”

  “No,” replied Jack, sharply. “We can’t charge anyone without burning the informant.”

  Connie nodded and said, “We still don’t know who Cocktail is. Isn’t there anything you heard or saw tonight to help?”

  “I might have his prints,” said Jack, carefully taking the Rubik’s cube from his pocket and placing it on Connie’s desk. “Cocktail handled it tonight.”

  “Good going,” replied Connie, reaching for her brief case to find a plastic exhibit bag, “but is there anything else? Even if we get prints, who is to say he has a criminal record?”

  Jack stared at the picture of Amanda. Her bloodshot, glassy eyes stared back at him from under a mutilated forehead. His mind went back to when he had last seen her, shortly after being criticized in court for not telling a drug dealer that he was an undercover police officer.

  She begged me to keep her out of court. I promised her that justice would be served … and that was before Ngoc Bích called to tell me the judge wouldn’t accept her testimony because she had been a prostitute. Does being raped and enslaved in a brothel make you a prostitute? Personally, I would take the word of most prostitutes over the word of a judge …