The Canadian Civil War: Volume 3 - West to the Wall

by William Wresch

Chapter 27

  Foster flees

  I love Elise dearly, but a six am wake-up call does not enhance a relationship. I am not sure what time Marc and I got back from our search for arsonists, but we then spent a long time sitting in the kitchen with Nicole while we talked about what we had seen and done, and frankly, while we listened to be sure there were not bad guys outside the house. It was very late when I finally made it to the guest bedroom, and it felt like I had just hit the pillow when I got the call.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Any other voice than hers would have heard a click as I shut off the phone. What Elise got was silence as I tried to wake up. It was still dark out, so my confusion was amplified. “We need you to take another call at the Provincial offices.”

  “Okay. What time?”

  “Now would be really good.” There was enough intensity in her voice that I sat up in bed.

  “Now?”

  “Some things are happening, and you are needed.”

  “Are you sure? The last time I was in that room “Charles” seemed to want me gone.”

  “This time it is Charles who is requesting your presence. You have a special relationship he needs.”

  “The only special relationship I have is with you.”

  “You’re cute for a guy who is half asleep.”

  “Just keep thinking that. Tell the boys to give me ten minutes.” It was more like twenty by the time I got dressed and hurried through the cold to the offices. The door guy looked like he was poking his head out the door every thirty seconds waiting for me. I barely hit the first step and he had the door open. Then it was down the stairs to the communications room where the same three guys I had seen several days before were waiting for me. They were all standing, looking like they had been pacing around. What could make them so impatient?

  “Please sit there.” Charles pointed to a chair. So, he would be running this meeting. This was interesting. I barely got into my chair when he and the others sat and Charles began the meeting. “Dr. Murphy is with us now. Can we continue?” He was shouting a bit to be sure he was heard by people in other locations. How many were there? He didn’t say, and this time there were no introductions.

  “Dr. Murphy,” Charles continued. “A situation has arisen that needs a quick response.”

  “Do you mean the fires last night?”

  “That is one reason for this meeting, but only one. By the way, we understand you were with one of the patrols last night. That was very kind of you.”

  “We found the second house fire, but too late to do much good. I was unaware of how difficult it is to fight a fire in such cold.”

  “We have some equipment that can help with winter fires, but not enough.” This was government-guy number two. Was he asking for a budget increase?

  “We will have today to plan some additional security measures so there are no more fires.” Charles took charge of the conversation again. “But there may be additional incidents.”

  “We were hoping all the outsiders had left yesterday morning.” I said.

  “Many did.” Charles again. “By our count nineteen are left. Unfortunately, these are the most dangerous. We have files on almost all of them since they have been a security risk for some years. You may be interested to know that several have connections to the Louisiana National Army. All of them belong to groups that are racist or just nasty.”

  “And there is Foster,” I added. “I assume he is providing money for this bunch and leadership.”

  “No, that is the problem. We have a number of listening devices in the hotel. These men mask many of their conversations, so we don’t have a complete picture, but one thing is clear. They want Foster out. The new leaders are the Dubuissant brothers, Philippe and Guy. They are the ones who are setting the new agenda.”

  “And Foster?” I asked.

  “He is leaving. In fact, he is ready to leave town this moment. He agreed to wait until he talks with you before he goes.”

  “What?”

  “He is waiting for you at the hotel. In exchange for talking with you and leaving the country, we agreed there would be no charges.”

  “Why do you want him to talk to me?”

  “We want you to convince him to stay and control the mob he brought to town.”

  “He won’t listen to me. Why don’t you try?”

  “We already have. Truth is, I think he is afraid of these men. And maybe he should be. But he brought them here. He should control them. You have known him longer, maybe you can shame him into staying.”

  “There is almost no chance of that.”

  “Maybe not, but we would be grateful if you would try. Go now. He is waiting.”

  So I left. It was maybe a ten minute walk to the hotel. Not much time to plan a speech that would move Foster and save the situation. What could I say? In truth, I didn’t want to talk to him as much as I wanted to punch him in the face. He brings over a hundred desert rats to town, gets people killed, and then just runs off? And how does he escape jail? How does he get away with all this? That was pretty much the attitude I had as I walked to the hotel, my fists clenched inside my gloves, ready for a fight, not a sales pitch. Man-mountain needed to pay for what he had done.

  I arrived at the front door of the hotel pretty hot under the collar, so much so that I missed him completely. I heard a truck horn beep and ignored it as I pushed on the hotel door, only to hear the horn blast again, louder and longer. Finally I turned and saw him in a huge black Ford truck parked at the curb. He motioned me around to the rider side of the cab, like I should get in and join him. Not in this lifetime. I walked around to the driver’s side and stood in the street while his window slowly declined.

  “You should be in jail.” I shouted, the minute the window was a few inches down. Not much of a sales pitch, I know. “You leave dead bodies in the villages and burned homes here, and then you just drive off? You should be ashamed.”

  “I get a get-out-of-jail free card for talking with you. They didn’t say anything about being ashamed if you request it.” What did I see on his face? There was a bit of a smile formed around the rolls of fat, but it was a bit constrained. Was I seeing stress? So what.

  “You are morally responsible for everything that happened here. If I had my way, I would tie you to a chair and make you watch as the hotel burns or the town burns or more people are shot.”

  “I am not happy about anything that happened here, but it might serve a larger purpose.”

  “Oh please. Don’t dare go there. Those dead men don’t care what game you are playing or what ends you are trying to achieve. And the next bunch of corpses should curse you though all eternity.”

  “Perhaps they will. But shut up and listen before I go. The men in there who will cause the most trouble are the Dubissant brothers. They are telling the others they are officers in the LNA and are under orders to start a fight here that will be joined by hundreds of LNA soldiers. Sioux lands will be taken over by Louisiana, and soldiers will be rewarded with land.”

  “The Dubissants told them that, or you did? Is that how you got those first men to follow you out to the villages?”

  “My approach was different, and it doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that the Dubissants are not officers in the LNA. They were soldiers – privates – and they were kicked out for robbery. They are common thieves, masquerading as soldiers.”

  “That applies to most of the LNA, as near as I can tell.”

  “You’ll be a better scholar when you spend more time with facts and less time with prejudices. I am giving you facts. Use them.”

  “You use them. Get you fat ass back in that hotel and tell the seventeen suckers they are being taken for a ride.”

  “If I step through that door, I will be shot. I am not ready to die for my country, and I certainly will not die in this sad little town.” He started the engine to his truck and put it in
gear. Once again I remembered I had a pistol in my pocket, and once again I was sorely tempted. Surely there would be justice in his death. Instead, I stood in place and watched him drive out of town.

  Charles was standing next to me in a moment. “You’re pretty usefulness, you know that?”

  “Yes, I do.” I released my grip on the pistol and walked up the street.