by Don Easton
“Situations do arise where I’ve needed one,” Jack noted. He glanced at Connie. “You, too, for that matter.”
“I appreciate that they’re needed in your line of work,” Ana said, “or for the military, but outside of trappers or ranchers, I don’t see a proper use for them when it comes to the general public. Far too many people are killed or wounded to justify the people who claim to have them for self-protection or for entertainment.”
“Despite having your mother’s door kicked in by two armed men, you still think that?” Connie questioned. “Personally, I’d think you’d fall into the category of someone who should be armed.”
“I’ve taken a stand on that issue,” Ana said firmly. “I entrust my safety to people like you who are properly trained. I don’t believe in giving in to the perpetuation of fear so often promoted by certain organizations or gun companies to increase their revenue.”
“A lot of people would disagree with you,” Jack said.
“A lot of people need to be better informed,” Ana replied. “The odds of a citizen having a gun for protection and actually using it to defend themselves is minuscule compared to the number of weapons stolen in home break-ins and used by criminals to kill or injure innocent people.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” Connie said. “I deal with the victims at work often enough. Then when I’m off duty I can’t escape it because it’s on the news.”
“Which, with the sensationalism generated by the media, perpetuates more fear, which equates to more people buying guns,” Ana said.
“I think part of the problem is that many people are gullible enough to believe the fake media which has become so popular on the internet,” Jack stated. “People are becoming enraged or scared over things that aren’t factual or never happened.”
“Don’t get me started on fake media,” Ana said with disdain. “At one time it was tabloid trash you’d find in supermarket checkout lines. No sane person believed it and may have only looked at it as entertainment. These days it’s better disguised and has gone viral. The motive for much of it is the same as the tabloids, to make money, but not all of it is intended for profit.”
“You mean it’s propaganda,” Jack said.
“Exactly.”
“Which promotes irrational thought because humans tend to absorb what they first believe,” Jack noted, “and disregard any subsequent facts that’d negate their original belief. They’re more inclined to believe the fake media if it coincides with their original thoughts.”
“You’ve got it.” Ana eyed Jack for a moment. “It would appear that you and I share some common beliefs.”
“In some ways, but living in fear is hell,” Jack stated. “Having a gun gives me a sense of protection. My wife, too, for that matter.”
“For the general public it is a false sense,” Ana retorted. “Statistics prove it.” She paused. “Yes, I’m scared over what happened, but somebody has to draw a line. Mine is not to own a firearm.”
Jack’s gaze fell upon a family portrait on her desk, then he saw Ana glance at what he was looking at, before making eye contact again. He swallowed. “You’re an extraordinarily brave person.”
“I don’t think so,” Ana replied. “I’m sure there are a lot of people who feel the way I do.”
“I’m not so sure. People like to think they’d be brave, but until they’ve faced something like you’ve faced, lived with what you’ve lived with on a daily basis, they’ve no idea what being brave really means.” He glanced at Connie. “People tend to think police officers are brave, but you and I carry guns. How brave would we be without them?”
“In our circles, not having a gun wouldn’t be called being brave; it’d be called being suicidal,” Connie replied.
Ana turned to Jack. “Roger told me about Satans Wrath taking pictures of you and your family. I’m sure you appreciate how it feels to have your family threatened, but for me the answer is not to buy a gun. Am I supposed to get one for every member of my family and carry it everywhere I go? You might, but I doubt the rest of your family does.”
“I’d be more concerned if I didn’t have a good informant who gives me the inside track,” Jack replied. “I’m pretty sure that the photos they sent me were only meant to intimidate, and they didn’t kick in my door. It wasn’t as bad as what happened to your mother and the effect I know that has on you and your family.” He gestured at the wiretap application on her desk. “Both are examples of why informants are a vital tool and need to be protected.”
Ana glanced at the application. “You’ve made your point about the need to protect informants.” Her eyes drifted back to her family portrait. “When things become personal, you appreciate it all the more.” She then looked up. “Looks like we’re done.”
A moment later Jack opened the front door and saw a Vancouver Police Department patrol car slowly driving past. It stopped and the officer waved at Ana. She gave a friendly wave back and the car continued on.
“They’ve been making regular patrols past our house,” Ana noted. “I really appreciate it. We sleep better knowing they’re around.”
Jack nodded. It helps, but the stress is still there. I know all about that. He eyed Ana. At least I’ve a gun. What you have is guts.…
Chapter Fifteen
Three days later Jack and Laura were at their desks when Lance called.
“Things are happening like you want,” he said after greeting Jack. “I met with Whiskey Jake and told him I think we should take the opportunity to have Borman introduce us to who is supplying the Death Heads with weapons. He agreed it would be a good idea.”
“Great,” Jack replied.
“He said if they’re stupid enough to make an introduction, we should jump on it before something changes.”
“You didn’t have to work hard to convince him?”
“No, I suspect he wonders why I’ve taken an interest in the Death Heads all of a sudden, but he readily went along with it.”
“When can you set it up?”
“I already did. Linquist contacted Borman, who arranged to introduce him to Zombie tomorrow morning. Also found out that Zombie lives up here someplace, so is presumably a Canadian.”
“That’s super. If we follow Linquist, he’ll lead us to wherever the meeting is.”
“You won’t need to. The meeting’s out in PoCo at a place called the Aquatic Centre Café. It’s scheduled for 10:00 a.m.”
“Didn’t your guys wonder why you asked?” Jack asked. “Normally you wouldn’t be involved in trivial details like that.”
“I mentioned I might assign a surveillance team to follow Zombie after.”
“Will you?”
“No, I think if I did and Zombie was busted later it’d have the potential to draw more heat my way.” Lance paused. “Why, do you want me to?”
“No. Laura and I’ll handle it.”
“Just the two of you?”
“I don’t want word to get out that we knew about the meeting. If it does end up in court, someone might let it slip. The fewer from our side who know, the better.”
“I see.” Lance paused. “Thanks for looking after me.”
“I figured I should for now. I submitted an expense claim for that tombstone you wanted and ran into some flak. Until that clears up, I better try to keep you alive.”
Lance chortled. “Aw shucks. I thought maybe you were becoming emotionally attached to me. You know … that Stockholm thing.”
“Forget Stockholm Syndrome. I’m a realist. What’s being ordered?”
Lance became serious. “Four Glocks with laser grips.”
“Four?” Jack replied. “Let me guess. You’re looking at it like a dope deal. If you only ordered one, he might have it on him. This way there’s a better chance of us following him to either his source or his stash.”
“You got it.”
“Price?”
“To be negotiated. I’ll get word on that after they meet and let you know.”
“Hello, Canada,” a jovial voice said. “I’m Special Agent Glen Ferguson, but you can call me Ferg. Everyone else does, even Betty, and she’s my wife.”
Jack introduced himself. “I’m investigating a case where some high-end pistols stolen from a gun shop in Alabama are turning up on our doorstep.”
“That’s what the person told me who forwarded your call. Speaking of which, sorry for the way they bounced your call around our office. I’m based out of Seattle, but I recently bought acreage about an hour drive north of here, near a place called Burlington.”
“Burlington,” Jack repeated. “I’ve heard of it, but can’t quite place where it is.”
“It’s an easy forty-minute drive south of Canada.” Ferg paused, then noted, “They like to give me cases close to the border to save them the drive up. I’m glad, because then I’m closer to where I live and it justifies taking a company car home. Gotta enjoy all the perks I can before I retire.”
“Let me outline all the details as to why I’m calling,” Jack said.
“Go ahead. Got my pen in hand.”
Jack told him about Irving’s murder and the pistols found at the scene that had been stolen in Alabama and the circumstances of that robbery. He also told him that the FBI had issued warrants for the Coggins brothers and suspected them of having cleaned out another gun store in Arkansas.
“Maybe the Coggins are in Seattle,” Ferg suggested.
“Maybe,” Jack agreed. “I’ve got an informant who says that the guy supplying the guns to the Death Heads goes by the name of Zombie. That’s all I know about him at the moment, other than he lives up our way, so he’s likely a Canadian.”
“I’ll run the name on our system anyway. You never know what’ll pop up.”
“I might have more info on him tomorrow.”
“What’s happening then?”
Jack decided to lie. “My informant is being introduced to him in the morning and will be ordering four Glocks with laser grips.” If there’s ever a leak, the finger will point to Linquist instead of Lance.
“What time?” Ferg asked.
“Ten a.m. I’m hoping to identify him then and do surveillance to try and find out where he goes to get them. I don’t know if the guns are being smuggled in from your side of the line or if they’re already here.”
“My hunch is they’d be coming from here,” Ferg said.
“Mine, too, which is why I called. If the same people did rob two stores, then we’re looking at about a thousand weapons. That’s more than our local market could handle, so I think the bulk of them are still in the States.”
“That’s a hell of a lot of firepower, by my standards as well. Seattle’s the biggest and closest city to where you are. If the rest of the arsenal is still together, it’d make sense that the sons-of-bitches would have them stashed here.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. If they are down your way, then hopefully Zombie will lead you to whoever is supplying him. If you have to bust Zombie, go ahead, but if he leads you to someone else, I’d be happy if he wasn’t busted, to make it look like he was the informant.”
Ferg was silent for a moment. “Yeah … I guess that’d be all right, although I hear that Homicide is a little busy these days.”
“My guess is he’d make it back into Canada before they decided he was the informant.”
“You’re probably right. I also bet you haven’t discussed this with your Homicide people,” Ferg said wryly.
“It’s what I call a delicate matter. No need to rock the boat at this point.”
“I hear ya. No worries. Do you expect Zombie to go get the guns right away?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“I’ll have a team ready at the border, so let me know.”
“Will do.”
“If Zombie decides to head down some other day, make sure you call me direct and I’ll take it from there. Day or night, I’ll be on it.”
“Much appreciated. Thanks.”
“Hell, it’s me who should be thanking you,” Ferg replied. “If we can take that many weapons off the street, it’ll be me who owes you big time.”
“If this goes down the way I hope, we’ll meet over a beer and decide then who pays for the round.”
“Perfect! You and I are going to get along really well there, partner.”
Jack smiled and ended the call.
* * *
The next morning Jack and Laura took separate vehicles and arrived outside the Aquatic Centre Café at nine thirty. Laura went inside so she wouldn’t look suspicious by following Linquist in, while Jack watched from a surveillance van.
At ten Jack called Laura when he saw Linquist park his car and walk toward the café. “You’re about to have company. Linquist has arrived. How’re you fixed for cover?”
Laura kept her voice low. “Lots of people in here. Blending in isn’t a problem.” Laura paused. “Okay … I’ve got eyes on him. He’s taking a seat halfway across the room from me. Will be too noisy to pick up any conversation.”
“That’s okay. We know what they’ll be talking about.” Minutes later Jack called Laura again to report that Borman had arrived and parked his car.
“Okay,” she replied after Borman entered the café. “I can confirm Linquist and Borman are seated together. All we need is Zombie.”
A few minutes later Jack saw a man walking toward the café. He was glancing in parked cars and looking intently at passing vehicles as he approached.
Jack was glad that he’d parked far enough away that the van he was in didn’t receive any scrutiny. He called Laura. “Okay, we’ve got a guy approaching on foot and acting kinky. Put him to be about thirty years old, shaved head, wearing jeans and a black leather bomber-style jacket. He’s coming in now.”
“I see him. He’s standing inside the door looking back toward the street.”
“Checking for heat, I bet.”
“Okay … it’s probably Zombie,” Laura said. “He came inside and Borman is introducing him to Linquist. Did you happen to see what vehicle he arrived in?”
“Negative. From what I could see he walked. Give me a heads-up when he’s leaving and I’ll see if I can follow.”
“Will do.”
The next twenty-five minutes passed uneventfully, then Laura called Jack. “Get ready. They’ve all stood up. Looks like they’re leaving together … confirmed. They’re out and I’ve lost the eye.”
“No worries,” Jack replied. “I’ve got glass on them now. Stay put. It looks like they’re saying goodbye out front.”
“Gotcha.”
A moment later Jack gave her an update. “Zombie is loitering around the entrance, but Borman and Linquist are each getting in their cars.”
“Zombie waiting for someone?” Laura wondered aloud.
“Could be. Hang tough.” Jack continued to watch, then said, “He was only waiting for Borman and Linquist to leave. Now that they’ve left, he’s crossing the street and walking west on Princess Crescent. I’m going on foot.”
“Want me to follow on foot or grab my car?” Laura asked.
“Grab your car,” Jack replied as he bailed out of the van.
A moment later Laura called. “I’m in my car. Where do you want me?”
“He’s entering a path that connects at the end of Princess. According to the map on my phone it comes out on Lasalle Place.”
Seconds later, Laura said, “I see it on my map. I can get to it by driving down Guilford and up Johnson.”
“Go for it.” A moment later Jack said, “Confirmed. We’re walking north on Lasalle. I have to stay way back. Nobody else on the sidewalk but him and me.”
“I’m on my way.”
A moment later Jack said, “Okay, he turned west at the n
ext block. Visual contact broken.”
“According to my map, that’s Durant,” Laura replied. “Where do you want me?”
“Maybe at whatever main exit Durant leads to but use your judgment. I’m too busy trying to get to the corner to pull up the map again.”
“That’d be Johnson,” Laura replied. “A couple blocks to the west of you. I’ll be there in three minutes.”
As Jack rounded the corner on Durant, he saw Zombie spin around halfway down the block. Shit.… “I see him … he’s doubling back. I’m going to have to veer off or we’ll be face to face. You better pull over and wait.”
Jack walked up to a nearby house, opened a gate to the rear yard and entered. Good, no dog. He then peered through the wooden fence and saw Zombie pass by on the sidewalk. “Okay, I may be out of it for a bit. Visual contact broken. I don’t want to heat him up.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stay put. I’d rather lose him than get burned. I don’t know how far he’ll backtrack. I’m holed up but will stick my head out for a look in a second. He could be planning to take that path back through to Princess.”
“Copy.”
Jack crept out of the yard and peeked around the corner of the house. He saw Zombie walking toward the end of the block while continuing to peer all around. Then when he reached the corner he looked both ways on Lasalle before doubling back on Durant. Here we go again.
Jack took up his location behind the fence but this time saw a set of keys dangling from Zombie’s fingers when he passed by. “Laura, you near that exit off of Durant you mentioned?”
“I can be there in about two minutes.”
“Hustle!” Jack left the yard again and peered around the corner of a house and saw Zombie getting into a vehicle parked on the street. It was one Zombie had walked past earlier before doubling back.
Jack’s voice was tense as he spoke to Laura. “He’s getting in a black Ford F-150 pickup with a silver tool box in the back. Can’t see the plate. That’ll be up to you.”
“Copy.”
Jack continued to relay what he saw. “He’s westbound on Durant … slowing … stopping at a set of lights and has his left indicator on. Light’s changed … okay, he made the corner. Southbound. I’m VCB.”