by Dan Latus
‘He was interested in the NATO strategy, there was no doubt about that. He went absolutely bananas when he realised I wasn’t letting him see the whole thing. I knew then I had to get out of there while I still could.’
‘Good thing we didn’t put the complete plan on the laptop,’ Harry said with a chuckle.
‘You’re telling me! I wouldn’t have wanted to wrestle him for it. He could have had it. He’s a mean guy.’
Harry nodded. ‘What now?’
‘I suggest we give him time to think it over, but I’d rather not hang around here while he does. I don’t know this city, and I don’t feel comfortable in it. We can’t ask Greta for protection either. If Petrov gets even a hint of a Canadian intelligence presence, he’ll be off like a rocket.’
‘So?’
‘If he’s interested, he’ll phone. He can do that wherever we are. Let’s go back north and wait there.’
‘Coal Harbour?’
I nodded.
‘You’re right,’ Harry said. ‘It’s better there.’
Simpler, anyway. I didn’t fancy our chances in a big city with which neither of us were familiar. It was far worse than being in the woods.
We decided to drive back. That would keep us independent of Greta Campbell, the RCMP and the Canadian state. An illusion, perhaps, but we needed to at least feel that we were in control.
Before we left, I phoned Henderson once more. He was becoming a lot more than just a bystander in this drama. We needed some serious help from him.
‘Frank, what can I do for you?’
I took a deep breath.
‘You do realise Harry won’t release the information you want so badly until the woman is safe?’
‘Yes. I have accepted that. Do you have something to suggest that might help?’
‘I do. Petrov is here, on Vancouver Island, and Greta Campbell has located him. We are in negotiations with him, as you know.’
‘Tell me something new, Frank.’
‘Patience, please, I’m just getting to that. The NATO strategy you concocted for us is excellent. Petrov has seen a sample, and it excited him.’
‘Good, good!’ Henderson said.
‘But even so, he’s not inclined to negotiate.’
‘He won’t release the woman?’
‘No. He believes he can get what he wants by hunting down Harry and just taking it. He wants to do that anyway, for personal reasons. Harry betrayed him.’
‘Ah! It’s what I feared.’
‘I think it would help enormously if Moscow knew you had the battle plan for an attack on Estonia, especially if they could see that it was the copy they gave Petrov.’
Henderson didn’t take long to think about it.
‘Petrov would certainly be in the doghouse then, wouldn’t he?’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘Then, in mitigation, and in the hope of salvaging his career, Petrov could tell them he can get hold of the NATO strategy. Hopefully,’ I said, ‘they will be so interested in it that they’ll put pressure on Petrov, and then he’ll want to negotiate with us.’
‘Yes, that might work. And the information I need?’
‘You’ll get it — imminently, in fact. I’m sure Harry will agree to that.’
‘I see.’ Henderson was silent for a moment. ‘Do you, by any chance, have a suggestion as to how we might proceed?’
I had to smile. The canny old so-and-so. Henderson had a delightful feel for diplomatic language and understatement. Civil service training, I supposed.
‘I do. Initially, I thought of getting in touch with the Russian consulate here on the island, and through them the embassy, wherever that is. Ottawa, I assume. Then I decided there isn’t time for all that. Maybe there’s another way, a more direct route.’
‘Ah! I think I see where this is going,’ Henderson said dryly.
‘You do? That’s good.’
‘You wondered if I could help, perhaps?’
‘I did, yes. It occurred to me that perhaps you know of a quicker route to the people who matter in Moscow?’
‘Hmm.’
‘I wondered if you intelligence people might have something like an emergency hotline. To avoid misunderstandings, say. Principal to principal — that sort of thing.’
I held my breath and waited anxiously. I didn’t have to wait long. No time at all, in fact.
‘It is true that at times of emergency there are channels of communication that can be used.’
‘There we are then,’ I said with satisfaction.
‘Is this an emergency?’
‘I believe it is, yes. A NATO officer abducted in Kiev? Petrov here under a false name and passport? And Canada a founding member of NATO? I would say that constitutes an emergency.’
‘I take your point. Can you email me the two strategies Harry picked up?’
He was asking for the crown jewels. I hesitated, but only momentarily. We were past the point where Harry could refuse.
‘We can. Then what?’ I asked.
‘I’ll copy them to Moscow and ask — in all innocence — if they really are theirs. I shall say it seems very unlikely to me, but the matter is potentially so serious that I felt a need to ask before taking an action all sides might come to regret. That sort of thing. Then, from what you tell me, they will see from the coded pages who it was lost the Estonia strategy. And Petrov’s name will be mud,’ he finished with satisfaction. ‘There, that should do it!’
‘And Petrov,’ I added, not wanting to be totally side-lined, ‘in the hope of salvaging his career, could then tell them he can get hold of the NATO response strategy.’
‘The strategy that we put together here for you,’ Henderson murmured with a chuckle. ‘Yes, indeed. I can see it working out very well.’
‘We can’t be sure Petrov will play ball, of course.’ I felt obliged to add this cautionary note.
‘Leave it with me, Mr Doy. And let me say you’ve done extraordinarily well. Well done indeed!’ He ended the call, while I preened myself. Praise from Henderson, who’d have thought?
‘What?’ Harry demanded suspiciously when I caught up with him.
‘I just received some praise from Henderson.’
‘Good for you,’ Harry grumbled. ‘But is he going to do anything?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He is. Exactly what we hoped for.’
Now it was Harry’s turn to award praise.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Early next morning, Harry returned his hire bike and swapped it for an Audi A5 saloon. Then we set off, driving all the way back to Coal Harbour in pretty much one go. By early evening we were there.
‘Home!’ Harry said with satisfaction.
I nodded. It was beginning to feel like that for me too. I got out of the car and stretched luxuriantly in the cool night air. It had been a long drive, and even in a comfortable car that can take a toll.
‘Hey!’ I span round to see Harry down on the ground, being kicked savagely by a couple of towering figures. Several others were charging out of the shadows, heading for me. Automatically, I stepped back, looking for space to defend myself.
A heavy blow from behind to my back sent me staggering. Off balance, I hit out at a figure in front of me, but it was a feeble attempt that had no obvious effect. I was soon overwhelmed and smashed to the ground. Instinctively, I curled up, trying to protect myself.
When the kicking stopped, I was too badly dazed and hurt to offer any further resistance. My brain, in survival mode, was doing its best to keep me functioning, but I couldn’t see properly and was only semi-aware of what was happening. I felt my wrists being taped together, and then my ankles.
I was lifted bodily, carried a short distance and slung into the trunk of a car. Through the pain and confusion, I got the message. This could be the end of me. I drew my feet up and tried to stop the lid being slammed shut. It didn’t work. The lid shut with a bang, putting me in complete darkness. For a moment I blacked out completely.
When I
came to again, I found I couldn’t lower my feet. I realised that the bottom of one trouser leg seemed to have been caught in the lock. The thought emerged that maybe, just maybe, the trunk lid wasn’t properly closed.
The engine started with a roar and the car jerked forward. Flat on my back, I pulled my knees up and tried to kick with both feet at the lid of the trunk. Nothing happened. I turned my head and vomited as waves of pain engulfed me.
The bad moment passed. I adjusted my position and kicked as hard as I could manage at the mid-section of the lid, where the lock would be. Nothing at first. I kept going, with increasing desperation. More kicks, and then more. Finally, the lid squealed and flew open.
Immediately, I was aware of two things — dazzling bright light, and the great grumbling, throaty roar of a massive engine. Neither were to do with the car carrying me. That slewed sideways, bouncing over very rough ground and throwing me in the air.
Despite banging my head hard again, I knew this was the moment. Now or never. I had to get out.
Somehow, I heaved myself over and up on to my knees. Trying to ignore the waves of pain, I slung my legs over the lip of the trunk. Then I managed to tumble out of the still moving car, falling heavily to the ground.
I realised then why the car had slowed and pulled aside. With a huge and terrifying blast of its klaxon, and bathed in bright lights, a massively loaded timber truck roared past, no more than a few feet from my head as I lay in the dirt.
Desperately, I rolled sideways, further out of its way, and kept going until I reached bushes at the side of the road. Then I kept on rolling and writhing with all my remaining strength. I knew I had to get as far away as I could, as fast as I could.
The truck powered on. The noise it made receded. I heard car doors slam and voices raised in anger. My escape had been noticed. My desperation increased. I redoubled my efforts and reached the trees at the forest edge.
Handicapped as I was, I couldn’t get far. They would soon catch up with me if I just kept going. In a little hollow where the ground seemed particularly soft, I stopped and burrowed my way into a thick carpet of coniferous debris, pine needles or whatever you get from spruce, cedar and the like. Then I lay motionless, prayed and tried to move and breathe as little as possible. The absolute minimum. Stillness and silence were my best friends.
Chapter Fifty-Five
All around, I could hear them searching. They seemed to think I had managed to get further than I actually had. I could hear them threshing about way into the forest, where there were no paths and the trees were packed close together. In reality, I was not far at all from the very edge. Just a few feet. Little time, my injuries and the bindings to my wrists and ankles had all seen to that.
As my pulse rate slowed and full consciousness returned, so did even more, and greater, waves of pain. I steeled myself and tried to assess the extent of my injuries. Pretty well everything hurt, but some bits hurt more than others. Head, legs, back, arms — my whole body radiated pain. What I needed to know was whether any of the injuries were serious. I wouldn’t be able to do much about it if they were, but I had to understand my physical capabilities and limitations.
Eventually, I concluded that I didn’t have any obviously broken bones. No major fractures, at least. But I seemed to have cracked ribs, and probably various other small breakages. Knowing that was something of a relief, despite my being a mess otherwise.
Another good sign was that I seemed to be thinking logically and behaving sensibly and carefully. Hopefully, that meant I wasn’t suffering from concussion. I still had my testicles as well, which was something else to be pleased about, given the kicking I had endured.
Internally, I guessed I was a bit broken up. Soft tissue injuries in the main, though. Strains and stresses, tears and bruises. No doubt I would be pissing blood for a while, and I would have to hope that none of my organs failed. But it could easily have been very much worse.
My feeling was that our attackers had had no real interest in me. Harry had been the target. He was the one Petrov wanted. So we’d been separated. I was no more than a nuisance and would probably have been scheduled for rapid disposal in some out-of-the-way corner of the woods, or in the Pacific Ocean. Harry was a different matter.
But right now, I couldn’t speculate much about Harry’s fate. There was no point. I would do my best to survive, and then, if it wasn’t too late, I would do everything I could to try to save Harry.
After half an hour or so the searchers gave up on me, returned to their car and took off. I didn’t count for very much anyway.
I gave it another half hour before stirring, just in case they had left someone behind to wait for me to emerge. Cautiously, carefully, I slowly eased myself up from beneath the coniferous quilt that had served me so well and struggled onto shaky feet. Then I rested a minute or two, waiting for the pain to relent, and the covering of soil and leaves to shake itself free.
The rest gave me time to plan my next move, which would be to try to do something about the tape binding my ankles together. Unfortunately, I soon realised, that was going to mean sinking to the ground again. Standing upright as I was, I simply couldn’t reach my ankles.
Anyway, I did it. I got back down on the ground, and in time I managed to free my feet of the tape binding them, using the fingers of both hands. My wrists were a different matter. I couldn’t manage to free them. For that, I needed the use of both hands, not just one at a time. I gave up. I had to get moving. Time was precious, and I doubted Harry had much of it left.
With difficulty, I clawed my way back onto my feet. Then I held on to a prickly branch and paused to listen, in case my struggles had alerted anyone waiting for me to appear. Nothing. Not a sound. So, with even greater difficulty, I began to make my halting way towards the road, stumbling in the dark and doing my best to ignore the pain and bottle the anger and frustration I felt.
Reaching tarmac, and space clear of trees and bushes, was a huge relief. It felt like major progress. Now what?
The car I’d been thrown into had not travelled very far at all before the timber truck had obliged it to give way. I reckoned I was pretty close to Coal Harbour. So that was where I would go.
Movement eased some of my problems. Putting one foot in front of the other, and then doing it all over again, helped pull the pieces back together and get my body into some semblance of normality. Walking gradually became walking again, instead of lurching and staggering. The feeling that I was just a collection of bits about to separate began to fade.
I still couldn’t get the tape off my wrists, but that could wait until I was back at Harry’s, where there’d be a knife.
It took me the best part of an hour to reach Coal Harbour. My heart lifted momentarily when I first saw the house, but then I froze. There were lights on inside.
For a moment, I wondered if Harry could be back. Then I cursed myself for being so stupid. If there was anyone there, it would be Petrov’s people, searching for the things they wanted from Harry.
I considered my options and decided I needed to know more. I cautiously approached the house. What seemed particularly odd was the absence of any additional vehicles. There was Harry’s truck and the Audi we had hired in Victoria, but no other vehicle anywhere near.
Perhaps Petrov’s people had been and gone, leaving the lights on. We certainly hadn’t. There hadn’t been time for us even to open the door before we were hit. I was going to have to get up close to work out what had happened.
It was difficult, verging on impossible, to walk silently over the pebble beach in front of the house, but I did my best. Taking great care, I edged up until, at last, I could see inside.
The light was on in the kitchen but there was no one there. It looked just the same as when we had left to go to Victoria. So did the other rooms I could see into.
I tried the front door. Unlocked. After easing it open, I paused. Hadn’t Harry locked it when we left? Perhaps not. In this neck of the woods people don’t alwa
ys bother to lock their doors when they go out.
Taking great care, I slipped into the porch, and then the long corridor that ran the length of the house. There were no signs of occupation, or human presence. I could see no one, nor hear anything out of the ordinary. The house didn’t even look as though it had been ransacked — or even searched.
Even more puzzled, I straightened up and headed for the kitchen.
‘Hold it right there!’ a voice commanded from somewhere behind me.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Very slowly, I turned to see who had called out. It was a woman — tall, slim and somewhat haggard. I didn’t have a moment’s doubt about her identity. I gaped at her in astonishment, scarcely able to believe my eyes. For a moment or two, I didn’t even notice the gun she had trained on me.
‘Johanne?’ I said, stepping forward, an astonished smile on my stupid face.
‘Stay where you are!’ she snapped, bringing the weapon up in front of her.
That brought me to my senses. I stood still and held my bound hands out in front of me. ‘I would appreciate some help.’
She glanced at my wrists and came to a conclusion that made me wince. ‘You’re on the run,’ she said. ‘Who from — the cops?’
Her eyes ran down my thoroughly dishevelled person with disdain.
‘I’m going to tell you,’ I said ruefully. ‘But first things first. You’re Johanne, aren’t you? Johanne Erickson?’
She neither confirmed nor denied it. ‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’
I sank gingerly onto a kitchen chair, my still-bound hands in my lap, and tried to work some of the stiffness out of my shoulders.
‘The name is Frank Doy,’ I told her. ‘I’m a childhood friend of Harry Stone’s, and I’m here because he asked for my help. He’s in deep trouble.’
‘Crap! I’ve never heard of you.’
‘I’m not surprised. I’d not seen Harry for many years until he called. But it’s true. You’ll find some of my stuff in one of the bedrooms along the corridor. My passport is in my jacket pocket, here.’
