“Tha way,” Sonny pointed towards the rear of the building.
“Good stuff, Sonny. Thank you,” said Chris, squeezing the man’s shoulder as he rose from his seat.
He turned towards the food line but Jonathan was no longer there. He scanned the room but Jon was nowhere in sight, nor were Dave or Frank Bakes anywhere to be seen.
“Fuck,” he muttered then looked at Bert, the more grounded bum. “Bert, as soon as you see Bob, go tell him that I went after the cigarette man, that way, ok?”
“Ok,” replied a wide-eyed Bert as he gazed at Chris in some kind of awe.
Chris moved away from the table and rushed out of the dining hall, attracting curious gazes from those seated nearby.
~ ~ ~ ~
Allan entered the last office and headed to the open slit of window. The dining hall was quite full now and they had started serving food.
“Excellent,” he whispered, going to the desk and pulling open a large drawer.
He extracted coveralls which he quickly slipped into and donned a ski mask. On the off chance that things went wrong, nobody would recognize him before he escaped.
Hurrying over to the corner, he popped open the access panel, slid the plywood aside and pulled out the rifle.
“Showtime,” he grinned as he returned to the window.
~ ~ ~ ~
Jonathan came out of the men’s room at the back of the dining hall and glanced towards their table. Chris was gone, he noted, but Bert, who suddenly spotted him, jumped up and hurried towards him looking flushed and excited.
“Whassa matter, Bert?” he asked as the man reached him.
“The cig’rette man,” Bert huffed breathlessly. “Dougie’s gone ta see im down tha way.
“Jesus,” Jon exclaimed and bolted towards the doorway.
~ ~ ~ ~
Chris rushed down the central hallway, scanning the wide open space ahead of him but it was deserted. He moved forward, quickly but cautiously, trying to figure out where the killer could have disappeared to in such little time. He stopped and turned slowly, 360 degrees, searching for a possible hiding place. He noticed a small recess in the wall which he hadn’t seen on his way down. He rushed to it and tried the door within but it was locked.
Reaching inside his dirty denim jacket, he pulled out a compact lock gun from a hidden pocket and inserted the pick into the lock. He pressed a switch and felt the slight vibration as the pick worked its way through the pins. Seconds later, he turned the knob and cautiously opened the door. A staircase led upwards to a dim hallway above. He pulled the door behind him and headed upwards, unsnapping the back holster of his small Smith & Wesson CS45 as he went.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Where the fuck did they go?” Jon muttered.
He had made his way to the rear of the building, looking into corridors which branched off from the central hallway but had seen no sign of Chris or anyone else for that matter. He turned and started back, searching again as he swore under his breath.
~ ~ ~ ~
Dave returned to the dining hall after having made another round of the shelter once the guided tours were over. He hadn’t seen anyone anywhere and was satisfied that most everybody on the premises was now enjoying lunch.
He scanned the hall, now tightly packed with several hundred people, searching for Chris or Jonathan but saw neither. Frank had gone out to check with the uniformed officers and would be back shortly.
Another half hour or so, he figured, and the crowd would start to dissipate after which he would be able to relax a little more.
~ ~ ~ ~
Chris reached the top of the stairs and noted four doors along the wall to his right. He gripped the knob of the closest door and turned it slowly. The door was unlocked and opened silently on new, well-oiled hinges. He looked carefully inside and quickly noted that the office was empty. He also noticed the windows on the wall opposite from him and realized that these were the rooms overlooking the dining hall.
‘Great sniper positions,” he thought in dismay, hurrying to check the next office.
~ ~ ~ ~
As Jonathan got closer to the main lobby, he noticed a door in a small recess in the wall which he had missed before. He approached and saw the door was just barely open, the latch leaning against the latch plate. He pulled it open carefully, looked up into the darkened staircase and headed upstairs.
~ ~ ~ ~
The second and third offices were equally unoccupied which led Chris to the last door. He turned the knob and pushed the door open, expecting to see another deserted room. To his surprise, he saw a man holding a rifle, silhouetted against a narrow strip of light emanating from the dining hall through a slight opening in the vertical blinds.
“Hey?” he exclaimed involuntarily upon seeing the man.
The man spun around, pointing the rifle at Chris, his eyes wide in shock through the holes in the ski mask he wore.
“Get away from the door,” he hissed, gesturing with the rifle, “Now.”
Chris stepped sideways and the gunman did likewise in the opposite direction.
“Farther,” he barked. “Get the fuck away from the door.”
Chris complied, taking several more steps away, with the gunman moving as well until he was positioned between the door and his captive.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” the gunman demanded. “How did you get up here?”
“The door wush open,” Chris slurred. “I gotta take a piss.”
“Bullshit,” spat out the man. “I locked the fucking door… Hey, wait a minute.”
He took a step closer and studied Chris in the dim light then suddenly broke into a big smile.
“Well, son of a bitch, you’re Dougie,” he laughed. “I’ve been looking for you, Dougie. Where’s your friend, Bob?”
“I dunno,” Chris mumbled. “What ur you doin?”
“I’m getting rid of drunken scum like you,” The man sneered. “Goddamned leeches like you and Bob and all those other pieces of garbage down there.”
“Whad you mean, gettin rid of?” Chris asked, scratching his head in confusion.
“You idiot,” spat the gunman. “I mean kill you. Kill you just like I killed the others.”
“Yur the guy is been killin all da bums?” Chris exclaimed with a look of fear and surprise.
“Forgive my manners, Dougie,” the man said sarcastically. “I didn’t even introduce myself. You can call me Allan. And yes, I’ve been killing all those crazy, lazy, drunken bums.”
“Why?” asked Chris, staring directly into Allan’s eyes. Jonathan had just appeared in the doorway, some five feet behind the killer.
“Why?” repeated Allan. “You need to ask why? Look at yourself. You’re useless. You’re a drunk, a bum. What do you bring to the world besides your nauseating stench? Nothing.”
He laughed and started to raise the rifle towards Chris precisely when Jonathan reached him from behind.
Allan suddenly went taut then began to convulse as the rifle dropped from his hands. He stood there shaking for a couple of seconds before dropping into a spastic heap on the office floor.
Chris hurried over and pulled the rifle away, placing it safely out of reach. Meanwhile, Jonathan bound the man’s ankles and wrists tightly with plastic restraints.
“Way to go with the Knuckle Blaster,” Chris commended. “This fucker was about to shoot me.”
He reached over, grabbed Allan’s ski mask and yanked it roughly off the man’s head.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered in chorus with Jonathan’s “Motherfucker.”
Chris pulled his cell phone out and called McCall. “Dave, we caught the fucker. We’re up in the last office above the dining hall. You better get up here.”
Epilogue – Tuesday, August 1, 2006
Captain Dave McCall entered the interview room and pushed the door closed with a solid clunk. He gazed at the door for a moment before turning.
The killer sat in the bolted down chair across t
he equally secured table. His ankles were shackled to steel rings fixed to the floor as were his wrists to similar rings welded to the back of the steel chair.
“Don’t you think you could get these things off me or at least make them looser?” he sneered at the captain. “This is quite uncomfortable.”
McCall stared at him quietly for a moment then replied, “Shut the fuck up unless I tell you otherwise.”
The killer let out a snort of contempt but remained silent, staring at the table top.
Dave glared at him for another moment then sat opposite the man and asked, “Why did you do it? Why did you kill all those innocent, homeless people?”
“Goddamned, lazy, drunken leeches,” replied William Allan Enright. “All that fucking money should have been mine.”
Books by Claude Bouchard
Available for your Kindle at
Amazon.com ~ Amazon.co.uk
Vigilante
Book 1 of the Vigilante Series
Montreal . . . the long, hot summer of 1996. . . and in the dark of night, moving like a shadowy wraith, a vigilante prowls the city's streets. The targets of his bloody rampage: the worst of the worst. . . Murderers. Gangbangers. Rapists. Six months. Sixteen murders. The harried police are still without a clue . . . until the day they receive an email from the assassin himself. Lieutenant Dave McCall, head of Montreal's Special Homicide Task Force, needs help to crack the secrets of the killer's taunting message. He calls on an expert, Chris Barry, who runs a security firm specializing in computer communications. Together, McCall and Barry launch a grim quest to track down a man who preys on predators - an urgent quest to bring this remorseless killer to justice. But whose justice will prevail: theirs--or the vigilante's?
The Consultant
Book 2 of the Vigilante Series
The friendly takeover of CSS Inc. leaves computer executive Chris Barry unemployed, very wealthy and pleased with the situation. But the hiatus is short-lived. . . As a result of his involvement in the recent ‘Vigilante’ investigation, Barry is approached by Jonathan Addley and invited to join ‘Discreet Activities’, a government agency of the clandestine variety. Accepting, he promptly takes on his first assignment under the guise of an IT consultant, to investigate possible links between a local import business and the murder of its MIS director. As he discovers the firm is being used to import narcotics, his cover is blown and things get personal, spurring him to show that murderers, drug lords, biker gangs and kidnappers are no match for. . . The Consultant. . .
Mind Games
Book 3 of the Vigilante Series
Montreal is plagued by a string of vicious sex slayings. . . Captain Dave McCall and his Special Homicide Task Force are in a frustrated frenzy as they try to bring an end to the savage butchery. . . Assisting officially is noted psychiatrist, Doctor Samuel Bowman and unofficially, computer genius and multi-millionaire, Chris Barry. . . With each passing day, McCall works his way closer to the truth. . . Unaware that they are heading deep into the deadly core of. . . Mind Games. . .
The Homeless Killer
Book 4 of the Vigilante Series
The homeless of Montreal are dying at the hand of 'Allan', a serial killer set on ridding the city of street people. . . As the killer taunts the police about the increasing body count, Captain Dave McCall calls on the services Jonathan Addley and Chris Barry, both operatives with the government's clandestine 'Discreet Activities' team. . . All while fighting the city's proposed by-law banning the homeless from downtown parks, philanthropist and activist, William Enright, joins the law-enforcement crusade to capture the assassin. . . But will the combined efforts of the law and old money be sufficient to stop the Homeless Killer?
6 Hours 42 Minutes
Book 5 of the Vigilante Series
Though most of them dabbled in a variety of criminal activities, they weren't experienced in this particular field and had never been involved in a job like this before. However, with proper planning, careful organization and the inside information available to them, they were certain that this bank heist would be a piece of cake. Ten minutes, in and out, was all it would take and they'd be sharing 2.5 million dollars. Nothing could go wrong as they had thought of everything. . .How could they possibly know that a new member of the board was visiting the bank that morning?How could they know that the new board member was Chris Barry?
Discreet Activities
Book 6 of the Vigilante Series
As a result of information gathered via electronic surveillance by intelligence agencies in the U.S. and Canada, a budding terrorist organization, the Army for Islam or AFI, is suspected of planning an attack, its target possibly NYC, Burlington, Vermont or even Canada's famed Montreal. . . When four foreign students from Pakistan with known ties to the AFI's Montreal cell arrive in the area on New Year's Eve, Discreet Activities' head, Jonathan Addley, along with Chris Barry and other DA consultants are more than willing to take on the additional workload. . . After two of the DA team members die violently in an AFI related suicide-bombing, the job becomes getting revenge on those responsible for this Holy War...
Femme Fatale
Book 7 of the Vigilante Series
Less than two years earlier, Leslie Robb, an accountant in her late twenties working for the Imperial National Bank, had seen her life-partner and co-worker, Gina, shot to death during a bank heist subsequently foiled in part by Chris Barry, millionaire and clandestine operative of the government's 'Discreet Activities'.Taken as a hostage along with Chris by the remaining robbers onto a helicopter secretly piloted by two 'DA' operatives, including 'DA' head, Jonathan Addley, Leslie had played an integral role in helping bring the offenders down. As a result, thanks to her sang froid, sense of moral justice and martial arts affinities, Leslie left the world of finance to fight crime as a member of the 'DA' team.Now, Leslie has a new partner in life, Dominique Petit, a Canadian/French dual citizen who suggests Leslie visit Paris with her while she is in the City of Lights on business. Less than twenty-four hours after Leslie arrives, Dominique and her sister, Corinne, disappear, turning Leslie's vacation into her own business trip of justice and revenge...
ASYLUM
As Managing Director of the “Montreal Hospital for the Criminally Insane”, Doctor Matthew Russell has always put his professional responsibilities ahead of all else. That is, until he one day realizes he is losing his wife, Cassidy, and his two children, Stuart and Jennifer. . . With only his family in mind, Russell takes an adventure-filled, impromptu vacation of indefinite duration, leaving all else behind and stopping at nothing to show how much he cares for his loved ones in an effort to win them back. But, will he succeed . . Or, will it prove to be all too late in the end?
Learn more about Claude Bouchard’s books
Visit http://www.claudebouchardbooks.com
Questions or comments?
Email at [email protected]
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