Face-Off

by Michael Betcherman

  “Roman has a place in Lions Bay,” Lara said slowly. Lions Bay was on the way to Whistler, about a ten-minute drive from Horseshoe Bay.

  “I know,” Alex said. His heart sank. He’d been there once. It was the perfect location, up in the hills, well off the beaten track.

  Twenty minutes crept by with no further word from Stefan. Suddenly a stabbing pain sliced through Alex’s head, just above his left eye. A couple of seconds later it happened again. He felt a terrible sense of dread.

  “Something’s happened to Stefan,” he said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know.” He grabbed his phone and texted Stefan. Where r u? The seconds ticked by. No answer. Alex called Stefan’s phone. It rang a few times and then went to voicemail. Alex felt woozy. He closed his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  After a few seconds the pain and wooziness went away. He nodded. “He’s in trouble. Bad trouble. Give me your car keys.”

  “You’re not going without me,” Lara said. Alex started to object but the determined look on Lara’s face told him he’d be wasting his breath. “And I’m driving.”

  FORTY-TWO

  Forty minutes later they turned off the highway at Lions Bay. A few minutes after that they were driving along an unpaved road up in the hills.

  “That’s it,” Alex said, pointing to a simple log cabin. There were no cars in the driveway. They drove past the driveway and parked out of sight, and then circled back on foot. They snuck around to the back of the cabin and looked through a window. The cabin was dark. There was no sign of life.

  “There’s nobody here,” Lara said.

  “It doesn’t mean Roman’s not involved,” Alex said.

  “I know. But what do we do now?” Lara asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said helplessly. Then his face brightened. “Stefan’s got the ‘find my phone’ app,” he said excitedly. It was one of the apps they had downloaded when they got the smart phones for their birthday. He navigated to the app sign-in page.

  “Don’t you need a password? Lara asked, stopping Alex in his tracks. Of course he did. He stared out the window in despair.

  “Maybe it has something to with hockey,” Lara suggested. Alex looked at her. Get real. “Doesn’t really narrow it down, does it?” she said apologetically.

  Stefan’s password probably did have something to do with hockey, he thought. So what? His did, too. He grabbed his phone, entered his password—LouRoberts—and prayed that he’d be able to add one more item to the list.

  Log-in Failed.

  He looked at the screen, stunned. He had been sure it was going to work. Stupidly sure. He tried every variation he could think of—all caps, part caps, no caps, an underscore between Lou and Roberts—but he came up empty every time. He fought the panic that rose up in his gut.

  “Maybe it’s another player,” Lara said. “Who else does he like?”

  There was nobody else, Alex thought. Just the Wall. The Wall! He typed it in the password field. “Holy shit,” he said. He was in.

  A few minutes later he and Lara were stopped at the foot of a driveway on Mountain Drive.

  “That is it,” Alex said, looking at the screen on his phone. The house wasn’t visible from the driveway.

  Lara drove past the driveway. A hundred or so yards farther down the road they saw Anna’s car pulled over to the side. Lara parked behind it. They got out and peered into the car but everything looked normal. They walked back to the driveway.

  They stepped into the wooded area beside the driveway, where they wouldn’t be seen if somebody drove by, and walked up a rise. A short while later they reached the top. There was a cabin in the clearing. They stayed well back, making sure to keep out of sight. A black Mercedes was parked in front, along with a grey Honda Accord.

  “That’s Ratliff’s car,” Alex said, pointing to the Mercedes.

  “There’s a camera over the front door,” Lara said. “I bet that’s how they caught Stefan.”

  Fear was etched on both their faces as the reality of the situation hit home. Stefan was being held prisoner in the cabin by people who had killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.

  “Let’s go back to the road and call the police,” Alex whispered. Lara nodded. She wanted to get out of there as badly as he did.

  Alex turned around … and found himself staring into the barrel of a gun. The Stork loomed over him, a grim look on his face. The jagged scar made him look like a character in a horror movie. Alex felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest. The Stork held out his right hand.

  “Phone,” he barked. Alex handed him his phone. The Stork stomped on it with the heel of a polished black shoe, grinding it into the ground. Then he pointed to the cabin with his left hand, the one that held the gun. “Presti.” Move.

  Lara was shaking with fear. Alex took her hand. It was cold as ice.

  The Stork chuckled. “Pije cade.” Nice boy.

  He prodded Alex in the back with his gun. They walked up the steps and through the front door. It led to a large, open area. Off to the left, a man with slicked-back hair sat in front of a bank of monitors, his back to them. One of the monitors showed the entrance to the driveway. They had seen Alex and Lara coming.

  The man turned around. He had a bushy moustache. It was the guy Tomas had met in the restaurant way back when, the one whose brother needed a fake passport.

  “I have to go now,” the man said in Berovian. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Roman. See you later.”

  Roman. As soon as he heard the name Alex realized his uncle had nothing to do with this. Given the circumstances, it was small consolation.

  A toilet flushed. A few seconds later a fat man came out of a room off the hallway. He had short blond hair, protruding ears, and a narrow nose. Nobody would know it was the Snowman, not even if he walked down the main street in Sarno singing the national anthem.

  He looked at Alex and Lara, shaking his head as if they were the two stupidest people he’d ever seen. Alex was inclined to agree.

  The Stork and the Snowman led them down a hallway. The kitchen was at the far end. It had been converted into an operating room. There was a stretcher near the far wall, beside a stand with a powerful light, like the kind in a dentist’s office. A man wearing a doctor’s gown was at the stove, sterilizing surgical instruments in a pot of boiling water. It was Marcus Ratliff. Alex recognized him from the picture on his website.

  The Stork opened a door that led to the basement. He gestured for Alex and Lara to walk down the stairs.

  Stefan sat on a chair in the middle of the room. He was blindfolded, with his hands and ankles tied and a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth. A lump on his forehead above his left eye was caked in dried blood.

  The Stork and the Snowman sat Alex and Lara down on two other chairs and then tied and gagged them. Car wheels crunched on the gravel driveway. A car door slammed and footsteps approached the house. “Je Tomas,” the Snowman said. It’s Tomas. The Stork started to put a blindfold on Alex but the Snowman stopped him, saying something in Berovian that Alex didn’t catch. The Stork nodded and removed the cloth from Stefan’s eyes. Then the two men went upstairs.

  Alex looked at his brother and then at Lara. He knew they were as scared as he was. Scared to death. Scared of death. The situation felt unreal, like a bad dream, but he knew it was no dream. He tried to think of a good reason why the Stork and the Snowman wouldn’t kill them, desperate for something that would give him hope. Then he realized why they hadn’t put blindfolds on him and Lara, and all hope vanished like a puff of smoke. He and Lara had seen the Snowman’s new face. They would be able to give a description to the police. The Stork and the Snowman were not about to let that happen.

  Alex looked around the room for something they could use to free themselves. The basement was unfinished. Smooth concrete walls and a concrete floor. Four smooth black metal poles supporting the plumbing pipes that
ran along the ceiling. The three chairs they were sitting on.

  It was hopeless.

  Lara was gesturing with her head, directing him to look at something behind him. He shuffled his feet, moving his chair an inch at a time until he could see what she was looking at. All he could see was an old furnace. It was rounded and smooth. He looked back at Lara. She dipped her head toward the floor. He followed her gaze. A thin, curved foot that supported the furnace extended a few inches into the air at the end.

  He inched his chair over to it until he was in the right position, then tipped himself over, keeping his head up so that it wouldn’t hit the floor when he fell. He landed on his shoulder with a painful thump. He wiggled around until the rope between his wrists was against the metal foot and began sawing away. After a couple of minutes his shoulder muscles were screaming in agony but he ignored the pain. He worked away for what seemed like forever before he started to feel the rope give way. He sped up. The rope fibres broke, one by one, until he was finally free.

  He was reaching down to untie the rope around his ankles when the door at the top of the stairs opened. He heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs and across the floor. A few seconds later he was staring at a pair of polished black shoes.

  The Stork jerked Alex upright. Tomas was standing beside him. He looked at Alex and shook his head sadly, as if Alex had disappointed him. The two men dragged Alex’s chair over to one of the metal poles supporting the plumbing pipes. They tied Alex’s hands around the pole, and then did the same with Lara and Stefan.

  Alex looked at Stefan. His eyes were closed. It was hard to tell if he was conscious. He turned to Lara. She had a frightened look on her face. It took all Alex’s willpower not to look away. I should never have let her come with me, he thought.

  After a while—Alex had no idea how long—the door opened again. He heard footsteps come down the stairs. Was it going to happen now? He felt like he was going to faint. I don’t want to die, he silently screamed.

  Tomas was carrying a tray with three bowls of soup. Alex felt a glimmer of hope. They wouldn’t feed us if they planned to kill us, would they? Then he saw the sad look on Tomas’s face and knew there would be no reprieve. Whatever he was, Tomas was no killer. He didn’t want them to die. But it was out of his hands.

  He took the gag out of Lara’s mouth so he could feed her.

  “I need to pee,” she said.

  Tomas untied her hands. He took the gun out of his waistband and stepped back while she undid the rope around her ankles.

  Tomas pointed to the stairs. Lara walked unsteadily toward them. She reached out and grabbed the railing for support. When she stepped onto the second stair, she whirled around and kicked the gun out of Tomas’s hand with one leg and kicked him in the groin with the other. As he doubled over in pain, Lara grabbed his head with both hands and drove it down at the same time as she brought her knee up. Tomas sighed softly and sank to the floor.

  Lara rushed over to Alex and untied his hands, and then went to free Stefan. Alex pulled the handkerchief out of his mouth and untied the ropes around his ankles before hurrying to help Lara with Stefan. His brother was pale. They helped him to his feet. His legs gave out. He would have fallen if they hadn’t been there to catch him.

  “Sit down,” Alex said. They helped him back onto the chair.

  “I’ll be okay in a minute,” Stefan said. He took one of the bowls of soup and hungrily drank some. It seemed to revive him a little.

  Tomas groaned.

  “We’d better tie him up,” Lara said. She and Alex dragged Tomas over to one of the metal poles and tied and gagged him. Alex picked Tomas’s gun off the floor and put it in his jacket pocket. It was way heavier than he would have imagined.

  “Do you have your phone?” Alex asked. Stefan shook his head.

  There were no windows in the basement. The only way out was up the stairs.

  “Can you walk?” Alex asked. Stefan nodded. Alex helped him get to his feet and supported him as they slowly made their way up the stairs. When they got to the top, Alex took the gun out of his pocket. Lara turned the knob. The door opened soundlessly. They stepped into the hallway.

  Marcus Ratliff stood in the kitchen with his back to them, arranging his surgical instruments on a tray beside the stretcher. Alex crept up behind him and put the gun up against the back of his head.

  “One word and I blow your head off.” It sounded like a line from a bad movie but it worked. “Get on the stretcher,” he whispered. Ratliff lay down on the table, his eyes wide with fear. Alex kept the gun pointed at Ratliff while Lara tied and gagged him. Stefan leaned against the wall. He was in bad shape.

  They could hear the murmured voices of the Stork and the Snowman coming from the living room.

  “Loko sive?” one of them called out. How much longer?

  Alex froze. He and Lara looked at each other helplessly.

  A second later Stefan jumped in. “Pet minuta,” he said, coughing to disguise his voice. Five minutes. The three of them stood still, not even daring to take a breath until they heard the Stork and the Snowman resume their conversation.

  Alex pointed to the back door. The three of them crept toward it. Alex slowly turned the knob and pulled. The door was locked with a double deadbolt. They would need the key to open it. Lara spotted a set of keys hanging on a hook by the door. There were five keys, including a black one with the Mercedes logo on it.

  The first key Lara tried didn’t work. She was about to try a second when they heard footsteps coming toward them. They hurried to the door to the hallway. Lara grabbed a wooden stool and hid on one side. Alex and Stefan hid on the other. Alex took the gun out of his jacket pocket. His hand was shaking.

  A few seconds later the Snowman stepped into the kitchen. He saw Ratliff lying on the operating table. Before he could move, Lara smashed the stool down on his head from behind. He sank to his knees. Lara hit him with the stool again. The fat man crumpled to the floor.

  “Lok seder?” the Stork called from the living room. Is everything okay?

  “Da,” Stefan called back. Yes.

  They rushed to the back door, Stefan leaning heavily on Alex. Lara tried another key. This one slid smoothly into the lock. Lara opened the door and pocketed the keys. They snuck outside. It was dark but there was enough moonlight for them to see where they were going. Alex put the gun back in his jacket pocket and half-carried Stefan as they made their way to the front of the cabin. Lara got behind the wheel of the Mercedes. Alex opened the passenger door and helped Stefan inside. He collapsed into the seat, pale as a ghost.

  “Are you okay?” Alex whispered. Stefan didn’t have the strength to answer.

  “We have to get him to the hospital,” Lara said.

  She started the car. Alex closed Stefan’s door and was about to get in the back when Lara yelled out a warning. Alex looked up and saw the Stork running toward him. He was only a few feet away. There was no time for him to get into the car. “Go,” he shouted. He ran toward the woods. He heard Lara gun the engine. The car wheels spun on the gravel driveway and then sped away. He ran out of the woods and down the driveway, where the footing was better. He glanced over his shoulder. The Stork was chasing him, but he was losing ground. I’m going to make it, Alex thought.

  He didn’t see the tree branch lying across the driveway until it was too late.

  The next thing he knew he was flying though the air. He stuck his hands out at the last moment to break his fall. He quickly rolled onto his knees and took the gun out of his jacket pocket. As the Stork took a step toward him, Alex fired wildly. The gunshot missed the Stork, but it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

  Alex clambered to his feet. He pointed the gun at Zarkov. They both knew he wouldn’t miss this time.

  The Stork put his hands up in the air without asking. “Don’t shoot,” he said.

  “On the ground,” Alex shouted.

  The Stork sank to his knees.

  This was
the moment Alex had dreamed about. The final scene of the movie he had fantasized about so often. Here he was, face-to-face with the man who had murdered his father, the man who had laughed while his father was being burned alive, the man who had torn his family apart. Every fibre in his body cried out for revenge. He couldn’t have planned it any better. Out in the middle of nowhere with nobody else in sight. If the police asked questions, he would say it was self-defence. They could never prove it wasn’t.

  He cocked the trigger. He could see the look of fear on the Stork’s face in the moonlight, and the Stork must have been able to see the look of grim determination on his.

  “Don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot,” he whimpered.

  Alex extended his arm but he couldn’t pull the trigger. “Lie face down on the ground,” he said. “Put your hands out in front of you.”

  The Stork did as he was told.

  Alex stood in the darkness, listening to the silence. It was finally broken by the wail of police sirens in the distance. Faint at first, but getting louder.

  FORTY-THREE

  “It almost feels like things are back to normal,” Anna said as they were driving to the arena for the first game of the provincial championships. West Vancouver was playing the Prince Rupert Commodores.

  The past week had been surreal.

  The Stork and the Snowman were extradited to the Netherlands to stand trial for their crimes, and if they were convicted, a near certainty, they would spend the rest of their lives in prison. Tomas Radich, Marcus Ratliff, and Peter Jurak also faced lengthy prison sentences.

  The arrest of the Stork and the Snowman was front-page news around the world. When the police first announced that three teenagers had captured the two war criminals, the story was treated as a hoax by a number of news organizations. The idea that three kids could succeed where Interpol had failed seemed preposterous. When it proved to be true, the media circled like a pack of vultures.

  Interest in the story was so intense that Anna and Lara’s parents hired a lawyer to handle the interview requests. The lawyer wisely announced that any news organization that contacted the kids without permission would be denied an interview, a strategy that kept the press off their doorsteps. They ultimately did a single interview with a reporter from CBC TV on the understanding that the footage would be made available to everyone else.