Race

by Mobashar Qureshi

  “Now will you tell us how?” Ms. Zee said. “That is why we paid you.”

  “It’s freeze-dried. It’s a precise process—but once done will give you that result.”

  “What does it contain?” Burrows said, looking at the powder on his fingertips.

  “Gelatin, mannitol, glycine, sodium lauryl sulphate, and sodium hydroxide, and some sweeteners for elegance.”

  Ms. Zee didn’t understand, but she hoped Burrows did.

  Burrows responded, “Those are polymers, permeation enhancers and flavour and sweeteners: the usual excipients you find in any tablets.”

  “Yes, the key is the process.”

  He disappeared into the same room and reappeared with a stack of paper bound at the corners. “Everything you want to know is in here. The steps must be meticulously followed to ensure a functional product.”

  Ms. Zee picked the stack and, without looking, handed it to Burrows. He immediately began digesting the pages.

  “I never gave that to you,” Frank said.

  Ms. Zee understood. Patents and copyrights were not his problem.

  “Everything is in here,” Burrows said with a glimmer of hope. “It is possible to have that result.”

  Back in the car, Martin asked, “How did you know about Frank?”

  “Frank works for Bantam. Once I realized what the drug needed I contacted him. He refused at first; he didn’t want to lose his job. But when I told him how Bantam had screwed me and so many others and that one day they’d likely screw him, too, he agreed to provide Bantam’s secret delivery process designs. For a large sum, of course.”

  Ms. Zee didn’t care for the reason, just that she now had the manufacturing process in her hands.

  ***

  We were in Scarborough and Beadsworth had just gotten off the phone with Aldrich. We were good to go. Tonight we were going to raid the building across.

  Shortly before, Nemdharry had notified us that the white U-Haul had made a stop at a large warehouse in Niagara Falls.

  We were waiting for the sunset. We were waiting for darkness. It was only a few hours away. I was getting anxious. This was my first raid.

  “Have you ever used a gun?” I heard Beadsworth say.

  “Yeah, of course,” I replied.

  I had trained, of course, but had never used a gun in real life.

  He leaned over and from the glove compartment pulled out a Glock. How do I know it was a Glock? I watch a lot of movies.

  “This is more for intimidation than enforcement,” he said.

  It was heavy and black. I felt powerful and scared—all at the same time.

  “Would I have to shoot anyone?” I asked Beadsworth. He was sketching a diagram of the building. Earlier he had circled the building from a distance.

  “If necessary, yes,” he answered.

  “Have you shot anyone?”

  He paused and thought about it. “Do you mean have I fired at anyone?”

  “Same thing.”

  “Not quite. I have fired my gun at someone but I have never hit anyone.”

  I thought about it. “What if I have to shoot someone?” I asked.

  “If you have to.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  “Then they will shoot you.”

  What if I did shoot someone and they died? I didn’t know if I could live with that. Or worse, what if I got hit? I might die. This lingered in my mind.

  A Toyota drove up and parked a few cars away. Garnett and Herrera emerged. Garnett had the usual I’m-gonna-rip-your-head-off look. Herrera looked different. He didn’t have the cheerful look any more. He had the Let’s-get-down-and-nail-these-guys look. I would look like that too if my partner had gotten hurt.

  “Finally, we do something practical,” Garnett said.

  Herrera nodded. He looked anxious, and fidgeted.

  Garnett had given authority over this raid to Beadsworth. Like us, he was looking forward to ending this.

  Another car approached. Two plainclothes officers emerged from inside. They were introduced as Officer Ross and Officer Moro. They were both in their early thirties and looked like they knew what they were doing.

  “Now that we are all here,” Beadsworth said, spreading the paper with the design of the building on top of the car hood. We all circled around. “From my observations the building has one main entrance and several exits in the back. There is a main loading dock. There are two emergency exits on either side. Beside these exits there are two additional fire exits going through each level.”

  Beadsworth paused, looking over the paper. “Around eight-thirty a white U-Haul truck will park behind the building. Management has confirmed that the loading dock is shut down after eight o’clock. Meaning if there is any movement of goods it occurs through the emergency exits.

  “Detective Garnett and Detective Herrera will move in from the front. Officer Ross and Officer Moro will take the fire exits and Officer Rupret and I will go up the emergency exits. Do you all have protection?”

  Protection? I looked around.

  Both Ross and Moro tapped their chests.

  “Officer Rupret will need one,” Beadsworth said.

  Garnett went over to his vehicle and pulled a blue Kevlar vest from the trunk and handed it to me. It was heavy. “Do I get a helmet?” I asked.

  “What?” he snorted.

  “What if I got shot in the head?”

  “That might not be such a loss,” he said, and walked away.

  I put on the Kevlar and then my jacket. I tapped my jacket pocket for the Glock. I then returned to the group.

  ***

  “How’s Barnes doing?” Moro asked Herrera. In the force only a handful knew what had happened to Barnes.

  “He’s recovering,” said Herrera, not wanting to talk about it.

  There was silence. I was getting anxious. My palms were sweating. My stomach was churning. My heart was beating. I had to calm myself. I looked around. I spotted the BUBBLE T SHOP. That would relax me—a cup of bubble tea. Strawberry. But I couldn’t just leave. Could I?

  “We still got time,” I said as casually as possible. “You guys want something? Coffee? Bubble tea?”

  Except for Beadsworth, they all gave me their orders.

  I walked in the direction of the shop. I took deep breaths. I needed to relax. I entered the shop and found Susan behind the counter. She smiled, recognizing me.

  “Welcome back,” she said.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Let me guess,” she smiled. “Strawberry bubble tea. Right?”

  “Yes, one please,” I responded.

  “On the house,” said a voice from behind the girl. It was the owner.

  “But I need other stuff too. For my colleagues.”

  “Everything is complimentary,” he said. He looked very happy.

  “Thank you. You know, I’ll come back here often.”

  He went silent.

  “Next time I would like to pay, though,” I said.

  “Of course, of course.”

  I leaned closer. “You know what?” He also leaned closer. “I’m in the police force.”

  “Really?” he said, looking tense.

  “And you know what?”

  “What?” he said.

  “I’m going tell everyone about you guys—“

  He looked a little pale now.

  “—Because you guys know how to treat your customers.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a smile.

  “After I’m through, this place will be packed. You know how cops are, always eating doughnuts and drinking coffee. You’ll have more business than ever.”

  “Thank you,” he said again.

  I really didn’t mind helping good, decent, hard-working people. All they ever want is to make an honest living.

  Susan handed me my order and I left.

  ***

  “This is good,” said Ross. He was drinking a kiwi bubble tea.

  “Yep, the best,” I
said sipping my strawberry. “You sure you don’t want any?” I said to Beadsworth, who shrugged me off.

  “Not bad,” Garnett grunted.

  “The truck has left Niagara Falls,” Beadsworth said, coming back.

  Nemdharry and Terries and a team were waiting outside the warehouse for us. When we went in, they’d go right after us. The raid had to be at exactly the same time. No chance for RACE to warn anyone.

  Half an hour later a white truck drove up and eased into the back of the building. We were sitting in our cars. Beadsworth speed-dialed and said something on his cell. He then signaled the two other vehicles.

  The car with Ross and Moro sped out first, followed by the car with Garnett and Herrera. We were the last to leave the parking lot.

  As we entered the front of the building we saw Garnett and Herrera swerve left and park at the main doors. We drove past them and straight through the side lane that led to the back parking lot. Up ahead we saw Ross and Moro’s vehicle park vertically so as to block the entrance and exit to the back.

  We stopped behind them and got out. This all took less than thirty seconds.

  I raced around the corner to the back, sweating profusely underneath the vest. My heart was thumping and my knees felt like they would give at any minute. The back lot was dark and empty, except for one vehicle—the white truck. It was parked in front of a wide-open emergency door and it was still running. Ross stood beside it. He shook his head; no one was in it.

  Beadsworth signaled me to take the other emergency door. I nodded and headed in that direction. I heard metal clangs and looked up to see Moro racing up the fire escape. I reached the door and found it had no handle.

  Of course it had no handle. It was an emergency door, only to be opened from inside.

  What should I do now?

  Go back?

  I had seen Beadsworth go through the open emergency door. I should go help him.

  I was about to turn back when the metal door swung open and hit me straight in the face. I fell back, my head spinning and my eyes watery. A man stood beside the door holding a carton. When he saw me, he immediately dropped the box and retreated up the stairs.

  I felt something roll through my nostril and onto my upper lip, but I didn’t have time to check it out. I started after the man.

  At the top of the stairs he turned right.

  Skipping steps, I made it to the top. He turned again. I kept after him.

  When I turned right for the third time, he was still climbing the stairs ahead of me.

  “Stop!” I said, but he kept moving. I pulled out my gun. He passed another man who was holding a large box.

  The man froze. I was halfway up the stairs when he threw the box at me. I tried avoiding it, but it hit me like a brick. I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs. My head hit something hard and I went blank.

  TWENTY

  They were in Regent Park, inside the laundry room, waiting for Marcus. Ms. Zee, along with Kong and Martin, waited patiently. Ms. Zee didn’t care how long he took. Now she had the upper hand.

  Martin was in a good mood ever since they had received the manufacturing process. He moved from one washing machine to another, trying to find the best spot to lean on. He also continued tapping his coat pocket, checking, double-checking, as if the contents inside might disappear.

  Kong stood beside her with his arms crossed over his chest. Kong was probably happy to be out of his confinement, but no one could tell.

  The door swung open and Marcus, in his fur coat, appeared. His bodyguard closed the door.

  “I hope you have good news,” Marcus said, dropping his coat to the bodyguard behind him. “I’m getting tired of these meetings.”

  Ms. Zee said nothing. She stood staring at him.

  “Yes, can we get down to business?” Marcus sounded annoyed.

  She still said nothing. Martin moved beside her.

  “Okay,” Marcus said. He snapped his fingers and the bodyguard immediately placed the fur coat over his shoulders.

  “If you leave this meeting,” Ms. Zee said. “I guarantee you’ll regret it.”

  “Hey, lady,” Marcus snapped. “Don’t ever threaten me.” His face was getting red.

  She smiled. “We have the product.”

  The redness faded and he said, “You do?”

  She turned to Martin, who walked across and placed two white tablets on top of the lid of a washing machine.

  “What is this?” Marcus said.

  “Try it.”

  “I’m not trying none of your shit,” he said.

  “Fine. Then you’ll never know.” She turned to Martin.

  “Okay, okay. Slow down,” he said. She could tell he was eager. “I just don’t want my man to get sick, you know.” He sounded more polite now.

  “There are no active ingredients in those. It’s just a placebo.”

  “Then you don’t have the drug?” he said.

  “We will soon.”

  He nodded to his bodyguard, who picked up a tablet and placed it in his mouth. The bodyguard waited but did not swallow. He quietly went back to Marcus and whispered in his ear.

  Marcus smiled.

  “You don’t want to try it?” Ms. Zee asked.

  “I trust my man,” he replied. “Now let’s talk business.”

  ***

  I lay sideways on the sofa with my eyes open. The back of my head was sore and this position was more comfortable. I slept this way the entire night and suspected I might sleep this way for many more nights.

  My nostrils were stuffed with bandages. My nose was not broken, only bruised. It hurt when I touched it. So I avoided doing that.

  The time on my VCR was after ten in the morning. I was not to report to work until I had recovered fully and that could take days. I was up early and had managed to walk from the bed to the sofa.

  Now I lay staring at the blank television and the digital clock on the VCR.

  I remembered last night.

  I remembered falling down the steps and hitting my head on the floor. I remembered being woken up by the paramedics. My head throbbed and ached but I was able to walk to the ambulance, yes, I did remember that. That’s where they bandaged me up. I was told that when my head hit the floor I fell unconscious. They insisted I go into overnight observation but I protested. They relented after determining there was no serious damage and gave me some painkillers and told me to rest.

  I also remembered being driven home by Beadsworth. I remember asking him if we had stopped RACE. At first he would not answer my question, but after much persistence he told me.

  We did not find RACE in the building. But that didn’t mean there were no illegal activities transpiring inside.

  LLPM Imports & Exports were not acquiring used clothing from the Goodwill and Salvation Army and sending them to third-world countries; they were pirating DVDs. At their location in Scarborough they were copying thousands of titles and shipping them to a warehouse in Niagara Falls before sending them across the border into the United States.

  We were on a wrong trail from the beginning.

  Yes, we had suspicions about the late night deliveries. Yes, we did stop an illegal operation, but we were nowhere closer to RACE.

  This made my head hurt even more.

  I tried changing positions but even that became difficult. My head was throbbing. I forced myself up, took one aspirin, and was back on the sofa.

  ***

  The process was in motion. Things were happening fast. Orders were sent out for liquid nitrogen freezing tunnels, blister packs, refrigerated cabinets, and freeze-dryers.

  Money was switching hands quickly, but Ms. Zee didn’t care.

  Burrows entered the room. “How long before we’re set?” he asked. He was eager to begin.

  “In a day or two,” Ms. Zee said. “It will take time to acquire the equipment from our sources.”

  She was surprised at how well Burrows had adapted into the organization.

  Joey
walked into the room. He scratched his shaggy hair and slumped down on a chair.

  She dismissed Burrows, and said, “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He didn’t look at her directly. “I was thinking…” he let his words trail off.

  She waited.

  “After you have Nex…I…I want to leave.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “I mean…I don’t want any trouble. I just want to do my job and leave and get on with my life.”

  “Of course.”

  “I also need some money.”

  “How much?”

  “Three thousand,” he said, swallowing.

  “Of course.”

  He nodded and got up. “I’ll go see if Ed needs help or something.”

  She said nothing.

  ***

  Joey closed the door and paused. He didn’t really think Ms. Zee would let him walk away. That was not how it worked. Once Nex was complete his life would be in danger. He hadn’t thought that when he had first started. But his mind changed when Armand disappeared. Joey was sure Armand had been killed.

  Ever since Burrows arrived, Joey could sense his worth declining. Burrows liked to work alone. He rarely asked Joey for his opinions. Even if Joey had opinions, Burrows shrugged them off. Armand was not like that. Armand didn’t like him, but at least he let him do his job.

  Joey had to get away and he had to get some place safe.

  ***

  There was a knock at the door.

  My eyes opened. I was still on the sofa. The VCR clock blinked 11:05 AM.

  More knocking.

  I forced myself up and dragged myself to the door. I opened it. It was Beadsworth.

  “It’s early,” I said.

  Without saying a word he entered.

  I went back to the sofa. My head hurt worse. The noise from the door had given me a migraine. “Pass me the aspirins,” I said, lying down.

  Beadsworth went into the kitchen and returned with my order. I took another pill.

  He sat down. “I was going to bring you flowers but…”

  “But you didn’t,” I said.

  He nodded.