Thirteen to None

by Claude Bouchard

  Dave shook his head. “You really think they’d put themselves at risk like that? It’s dangerous, and wrong.”

  “What I’m thinking,” Chris replied, “Is that these guys are going to regret ever dropping by here, Dave. I would bet you that the missing three are either dead or in really bad shape.”

  Jonathan nodded. “I’m with Chris and I’ll tell you something else. I doubt one of Butch’s boys grabbed Chris’ truck. Do you want to know why?”

  “Why?” asked Dave.

  “Because I think Leslie took it,” Jonathan replied.

  “You can’t be serious,” said Dave. “Why would Leslie risk coming here to steal Chris’ truck with all these guys around?”

  “I’ll tell you why,” said Chris, picking up where Jon had left off. “She came to get some stuff I keep in a hidden vault in the gym. She took my truck to get that equipment out of here, apparently running a guy down and bashing Butch’s bike in the process.”

  “And if that’s what happened,” Jonathan continued, “Our ladies now have an arsenal at their disposal which would make some military forces envious.”

  “If that’s what happened,” Chris stepped in for the finale, “These morons would be better off shooting themselves.”

  “Jesus, this is crazy,” Dave muttered. “Something like this would be delicate for trained cops to deal with and you’re telling the girls are planning to take it on?”

  “They’ve already started, Dave,” Chris replied, “And they won’t stop until it’s over.”

  Dave shook his head, looking dazed. “For the record, I don’t like it and I definitely don’t agree with it, but you guys are convinced of this, aren’t you?”

  Jonathan smiled and said, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and there are five ladies out there who are really pissed off.”

  Chapter 13 – Saturday - 5:49 p.m.

  “The Lexus is in the garage and the blinds to the windows are closed,” Cathy announced as she joined the others in the neighbouring home’s dining room. “Wow, that’s quite an arsenal.”

  An array of firearms along with a variety of canisters, boxes of ammunition, knives and other weapons covered the surface of the large antique dining room table.

  “I figured better safe than sorry,” Leslie replied. “I’m hoping we don’t have to use any of this, particularly the guns for the noise factor, but I’d hate to suddenly need something knowing I’d left it behind.”

  “My neighbours would freak if they saw this,” said Sandy.

  “We’ll get this thing all done and settled one way or another before they return,” Leslie replied with determination. “I’m just glad they’re away right now because having access to this place makes a big difference.”

  “It certainly does,” Josée agreed as she examined the handguns, selected a model she was familiar with and proceeded to load it. “I can’t imagine trying to deal with this from a motel room across the lake.”

  “Sorry, it looks like their meeting is over,” Dominique interrupted, her gaze locked on the iPad as she scrolled the cameras to follow what was going on. “They all seem to be heading out back through the kitchen.”

  “All of them?” Cathy asked. “Do you think they might be leaving?”

  Leslie shook her head. “I seriously doubt that. More likely planning to search for their missing pals and find whoever took the Lexus and bashed the bike.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Josée agreed. “Good thing we had somewhere to stash the truck. That may be the only problem with being so close by. They may come snooping around here.”

  “It would make our job that much easier if they did,” Leslie replied. “I’d love the whole lot of them to come on over. We could get this settled in minutes.”

  “Unfortunately, I doubt that’s going to happen,” said Josée. “I’m thinking, the cameras are fine to track them in and around the house but if they decide to go driving around to look for the truck, we should try to keep track of them. I’m going to take the plane back up to for a while to get a better view.”

  “Good idea,” said Leslie. “Do you want someone to go up with you?”

  “That wouldn’t really serve any purpose,” Josée replied. “It’s probably best to keep as many of us available down here to deal with these idiots. I’ll call you once I’m up and we’ll try to figure out our next step based on what I see.”

  * * * *

  The crew was gathered around Butch in the back yard, listening intently as he gave his orders.

  “Dibs, I want you to head toward Knowlton and see if you can spot that Lexus or any of those idiots. Cruise the streets when you get there. Hell, you might even find the chop shop they went to.”

  “I’m on it,” said Dibs.

  “Smokie,” Butch continued, turning to the perpetually stoned crew member. “Take the other truck and head down the other way. There’s another town at the end of the lake. Check it out and go easy on your damned pot smoking, for Chrissakes. I want you alert on this. Got it?”

  “I’m good,” Smokie acknowledged with a nod and a grin.

  “So, both of you, get the hell outta here,” Butch snarled before turning to the others. “Lefty, you take that other Sea-Doo and go look for Willy down that way. There’s a marina in Knowlton. Have a good look when you get there. For all I know, Willy’s there drunk and hitting on some ladies. Rat, you take the boat and head in the other direction.”

  He paused for a moment as a nearby seaplane accelerated across the lake’s surface and lifted into the air. “I want the rest of you to check around here, inside and out, just in case one of those idiots is passed out drunk somewhere or something. Any questions?”

  “I don’t have a question,” said Razor. “I just gotta say something.”

  “Well, don’t keep me waiting, dude,” Butch replied with little patience. “What is it you gotta say?”

  “This whole deal kinda sucks is all,” Razor dared to say.

  All eyes turned to the wiry young man, so nicknamed because he shaved his head daily.

  “Really? What sucks?” Butch demanded as he motioned the man closer. “I wanna know what the problem is.”

  “Well, uh,” Razor stammered, already regretting having spoken. “We ain’t been here that long, just a few hours, and besides some good booze, there ain’t too much going right.”

  “Are you telling me I chose a shitty place to party?” asked Butch, stepping closer. “Are you saying this place ain’t good enough for you?”

  “No, man,” Razor replied, trying to back-pedal. “It’s a great place. Like I said, the booze is good and the boats and pool, that’s all cool.”

  “Then, what’s your problem?” Butch insisted. “You got something to say to me so say it.”

  “It-it’s just that we got here,” Razor pressed on, knowing he had no choice, “And there ain’t any broads, just those three old guys. Then Ape gets killed and now Olly’s dead and Willy, Tops and Nose have disappeared.”

  “I know all that shit,” said Butch. “So, what do you think we should do? I wanna know.”

  Razor shrugged. “Maybe we should just get the hell outta here. Ain’t nothing good happening and I think it’s gonna get worse.”

  Butch nodded, looking thoughtful. “Uh, huh. What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t know, Butch,” Razor replied with a little more confidence. “Just vibes, I guess. I can feel it in my gut.”

  Butch smiled and started turning away before swinging back to punch Razor in the face, knocking him to the ground.

  “Can you feel this in your gut?” he snarled, kicking at Razor. “Is this your crew, you little shit?”

  “No, Butch,” Razor gasped, clutching his stomach. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, pal,” Butch snapped. “Yeah, Olly’s dead and that sucks. And don’t forget my bike was totalled too, so I want to get my hands on the fuck who did it. I’m pretty sure it’s th
at son of a bitch, Tops, so I want us to find him. Willy and Nose are probably in on this like that old guy said inside so I want us to catch those little bastards too. How are we gonna catch them if we just get the hell outta here? How are we gonna make them pay if we don’t even look for them?”

  “You’re right, Butch,” Razor replied, staying alert to fend off any further blows. “I should have just shut up.”

  “Damned right, you should have just shut up,” Butch agreed. “Now get up and start looking for those sorry assholes.”

  He looked around at the others and added, “Anyone else got questions or smart-ass advice?”

  When nobody responded, he shouted, “Well, get at it.”

  * * * *

  With nobody around to keep an eye on them and with considerable difficulty, Chris and Jonathan had managed to reposition their chairs, aligning Chris’ left hand with Jonathan’s right wrist. However, for all their efforts, Chris could barely grasp at the duct tape securing Jon’s wrist and only with his little and ring fingers.

  “The bastards really laid it on thick,” Chris muttered as his pinkie once again slipped away from the ever so slightly frayed edge of the tape.

  “Yeah, this isn’t their first time so they know what they’re doing,” said Dave as he helplessly watched. “I’m sure they’re responsible for a home invasion in Brighton I read about earlier this week. Same M.O. They’re wanted for vandalism, theft, assault, rape, arson and murder. The Ontario cops had no leads on these animals and now they’re here with us.”

  “It’s good to know we’re dealing with guys who take their work seriously,” Jonathan muttered.

  “And that we have something to look forward to,” Chris added, flexing his working fingers. “What I wouldn’t give for just one of those pieces of glass lying all over the place.”

  “Why don’t I get you one,” Dave joked then tensed and whispered, “Someone’s coming.”

  “Well, well, ladies, rearranging the furniture, I see,” said Butch as he strolled back into the dining room seconds later. “I can’t leave you assholes alone for five minutes and you start messing up. That’s a damned shame if you ask me. A damned shame indeed.”

  * * * *

  “You bastard!” Sandy shrieked as she burst into tears.

  Via the security camera in the dining room, the women had seen Chris and Jonathan painstakingly reposition their chairs followed by Chris’ attempts at getting through the tape binding Jon’s right wrist. A moment earlier, the obvious leader of this crew of bandits had sauntered back into the room and seemingly scolded his prisoners. He had then pulled Chris’ chair away, turning it so it faced Jonathan and Dave from several feet away.

  With the two men forced to look on and powerless to help, their captor had proceeded to viciously slap, punch and kick Chris for several minutes, all while chattering away with a smile.

  “If it’s the last thing I do,” Sandy vowed as tears streamed down her cheeks, “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

  Leslie hugged her and said, “We’re going to get him, babe, and he’s going to pay for everything he’s done.”

  * * * *

  “I hope you guys are gonna start taking me seriously,” said Butch, giving Chris a couple of rough, final pats on a blood spattered cheek. “I meant it when I said you had to play by my rules. You can’t mess around on my watch cuz it pisses me off and then I lose it.”

  “You okay, Chris?” asked Dave.

  Chris raised his head and nodded, his split, bloody lips curling into a smile as he winked with the eye which wasn’t swelling shut. “I don’t think my friend here broke anything.”

  Butch laughed. “Nah, I went easy on you. I wouldn’t want our buddy, Jonathan, to start calling me a wuss.”

  “You are a wuss,” said Jonathan. “Anyone who beats on someone who’s bound up like you just did is a damned coward.”

  “Are you looking to get hurt, Jon?” Butch asked, his smile fading as he stepped closer. “I don’t care if your tough guy acts scared the crap outta Dibs. I ain’t impressed and if I have to, I’m gonna hurt you.”

  “Go ahead, asshole,” Jonathan urged. “Beat on me all you want. Slice me open with a knife, gut me and shoot me with your damned gun. I don’t care because the whole time you’ll be doing it, pretending you’re mean and tough, I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you’re a wimp, a pussy, a damned gutless pansy with no balls.”

  Butch glared at Jonathan for a moment, his fists clenched, before breaking into a smile. “Nice try, buddy. You were hoping I’d cut you loose again, weren’t you? I’ll tell you something. I may be a wuss but I’m no idiot.”

  He turned and headed for the kitchen, pausing at the doorway to add, “I’m going to get me a beer and check up on my crew out there but I’ll be back so don’t do anything to piss me off while I’m gone. Got it?”

  Chapter 14 – Saturday - 6:02 p.m.

  Though Rat had yet to say anything, he fully agreed with what Razor had dared to say to Butch just a few minutes earlier. They should cut their losses short, pack up and move on to their next stop, wherever Butch decided that was. Where Razor had made his mistake was in sharing his opinion in front of the crew as Butch did not tolerate being challenged or second-guessed by anyone, his subordinates in particular.

  For Butch to agree with him would have meant to lose face which was something their leader would never allow. What Razor should have done, which was what Rat planned to do, was speak to the boss in private. Butch would have then morphed Razor’s reasoning into his own idea and informed the others of his decision, once again demonstrating his higher intelligence and leadership abilities.

  This was what Rat believed would happen once he spoke to Butch. Once their search activities were over, and whether or not they found the three missing crew members, he was certain he could convince Butch to decide that leaving was their best option.

  He would explain that this particular invasion was unsuccessful though through no fault of their leader. Following his usual impeccable search criteria, Butch had, in fact, selected a private, well located and lucrative target. However, he had no way of knowing that the woman, or women as it had turned out, would be gone a day later. Butch would agree with this logic, blame the dames for screwing up his plan and call it quits.

  In the meantime, Rat would enjoy himself by cruising around the lake in the fancy powerboat at his disposal and, who knew, he might even find Willy floating on the Sea-Doo somewhere, out of gas.

  * * * *

  “He seems to be sticking to the shore,” said Cathy as she watched the Barry’s powerboat through the binoculars they had borrowed from the neighbour’s home.

  “Excellent,” Sandy replied, opening up the throttle on their rented bass boat. “He’s not going too fast either. We should be able to get ahead of him by cutting across the lake.”

  Moments after taking off in the seaplane, Josée had called to announce that two of the men had just left the dock, one heading south toward town on the remaining Sea-Doo and the other, north on the powerboat. The two women had hurried out to the bass boat in time to see the powerboat cruise by at a leisurely speed. Not wishing to raise the man’s suspicions by following him outright, Sandy had headed in a north-westerly direction toward the centre of the lake before roughly paralleling his course at a higher speed.

  They glided across the water’s calm surface in silence while Cathy kept track of the other boat’s location. It soon became obvious that the man was in no hurry as he slipped further behind them, inadvertently playing right into the crux of their plan, that being for them to reach some spot ahead of him where he would come upon them. Unfortunately, that was where the specifics of the plan ended with any subsequent elements to be played largely by ear.

  “We’ll be breaking down soon,” said Sandy, adjusting their course slightly eastward to get a bit closer to the shore. “There will be too many houses, and prying eyes, if we go any further north.”

  Cathy n
odded as she scanned the lake, noting the absence of any pleasure craft close by. “I guess our timing is good though. It’s dinnertime for most.”

  A moment later, Sandy cut the engine then removed the cover and loosened the spark plug connections before putting the cover back in place.

  “We’re ready to go,” she said. “Let’s try to get our boy’s attention.”

  The two women started waving their arms at the slowly approaching boat though it was still a fair distance from them. A couple of minutes later, the man seemed to have noticed them as the boat accelerated and veered in their direction. A few more minutes passed and the boat slowed then came to a near stop a dozen feet away as its pilot briefly reversed the engine.

  “Can I help you ladies with anything?” the stocky twenty-something year old called out.

  “Our engine died on us,” said Sandy. “Can you give us a tow?”

  “I guess I could,” he replied, looking them over. “What would be in it for me?”

  Cathy glanced at Sandy with a smile and said, “What do you have in mind?”

  The young man grinned. “Well, you both are fine looking ladies.”

  “You’re not bad looking yourself,” said Sandy, letting her eyes roam down his body. “I think we could work something out.”

  “Really?” he replied, surprised. “If that’s the case, I’d love to give you a tow. Let me get closer and we’ll get you hitched up.”

  He manoeuvred the boat, bringing it alongside the other bow to stern, and held it steady while Cathy climbed aboard to tie a line which Sandy tossed to her. Within moments, the line was secured and Sandy had joined them in the powerboat.