The vehicles slow, u-turn and move toward us. By the time they get to us the Challenger is airborne and climbing steeply.
A general in fatigues gets out of the MP vehicle and the Deputy Commissioner gets out of the RCMP cruiser.
The MP captain and his men all snap to attention and Laurent delivers a smart salute. The general’s gaze sweeps over us and comes to rest on Laurent. “Very well done, Captain. You can un-cuff your former prisoners now.”
The Deputy comes over to me. “You’re lucky to have friends in high places Mr. Rogan. I hope I did the right thing here, if not, I’ll be saying goodbye to a career I love.”
The volume of the Challenger’s engines increases and we all look up. It has done a u-turn and is flying back over us, heading south. We all stare up at it, silhouetted against the cold blue of the afternoon sky. In moments, it will be out of Canadian airspace. General Matherson will live to fight another day, unless someone can get an airforce general to recall the plane and if that happens, will the pilot comply? Maybe he too is part of this cabal we’ve been chasing after.
As we look at the departing jet, each of us thinking our own thoughts, it bursts into an orange cloud of flame. For a surreal fraction of a second, I still hear the engines, then the percussive boom of the explosion hits my eardrums and I watch, mesmerized, as a shower of aircraft parts rains down onto the end of the airfield and onto the adjacent land.
The Deputy Commissioner was right. Silently, I thank Larry Corliss, my friend in high places.
She looks affronted by the fact that five people have walked into her office unannounced and without even knocking. “I’m afraid you can’t see the Director right now; he’s on the phone to the Minister.”
Jen’s boss, Tony, leans over and whispers something to the Deputy Commissioner. The latter thinks for a second and nods. Tony smiles at the Director’s PA. “Alice,” he says gently, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave the office.”
“But I—ˮ
“Sorry Alice. National security,” he says. They seem to use that as an excuse for everything but in this case I approve. “Please just wait outside.”
Not in the least mollified, she hrumphs, picks up her purse and leaves.
As the door closes behind her, Tony presses buttons on her phone and the Director’s voice comes over the speakerphone, loud and clear.
“Yes, Minister, I feel sure that the PM will agree that these bombings, plus the attempted bombing of the Victoria Building, will warrant using the Emergency Act. After all, his father used the War Measures Act to do the same thing in nineteen seventy.”
“But Markus, I doubt that it will pass Parliamentary review.” I recognize the well-known voice of the Minister of Public Safety.
“Yes, but while Parliament dithers around, there might easily be another attack, which armed military on the streets might be able to thwart.” There is silence from the Minister. Markus Heath presses his point. “The sabotage of a military aircraft requires an armed response. And, but for the bravery of a Canadian citizen who tragically died in the explosion with General Matherson, we would never have known about the bomb in the Victoria Building. Military patrols in the Capital’s buildings would certainly deter these terrorists.”
“OK, Markus. I’ll talk to the PM about it.”
“I would be happy to brief him with you, Minister.”
“That might be a good idea. I’ll get back to you.”
They hang up.
Tony looks at the Deputy Commissioner and they both nod. The DC opens the door to the Director’s office and walks in, followed by Tony, Jen, myself and Inspector Saunders.
When he sees Jen and me, the annoyance on his face morphs into disbelief.
The DC gets straight to it. “Markus Heath, you are under arrest for treason, conspiracy to commit murder and corruption.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snaps. “You’re arresting me on the word of those two.” He inclines his head in Jen’s and my direction.
“We have far more than that,” the Deputy says.
“Like what?” Heath sneers.
“Well for a start…” the Deputy stops in mid-sentence. “No, why don’t you tell him Mr. Rogan?”
“Apart from the fact that we are going to find your fingerprints on the door handle of suite three-oh-seven of the Victoria Building, together with the fingerprints of your colleagues. And apart from the fact that you were the only person, other than Jen Halley, who knew at which hotel Tina Johal was staying, so you could kidnap her. And apart from the fact that you admitted to three witnesses what you were plotting. And apart from the fact that several of your men have been arrested and one of them is bound to talk. Apart from all that, there is documentary evidence.” I stop and smile.
“What documentary evidence?” The sneer is still in his voice.
“The Deputy Commissioner here made a couple of phone calls and discovered that it was you who requested that the RCMP send a team to the offices of Chaos Star Security in Vancouver to delete all copies of the documents that Annalise Lamarche sent to her brother Denis. The only problem for you was that one document was decrypted just before it was deleted. The CEO of Chaos Star sent it to the DC this afternoon. It was a Microsoft Project document showing the detailed plans of your little cabal. It mentions names, dates and places. Based on that, the RCMP and the Military Police are in the process of making arrests right now.” I remember one other detail. “Oh, and the other documents have been sent back to Chaos Star for them to decrypt.”
“You fools,” he sighs. “Our 'cabal’, as you call it, was the only hope for Canada. Democracy is the deadest concept in the modern world. We can only survive as a nation if we have a strong hand on the wheel.” His voice grows more forceful. “You people could be in the vanguard of a new chapter in our glorious history. Just think what—ˮ
The Deputy Commissioner cuts him off. “You can contemplate all that during the years you’ll be spending in jail.” He nods to his colleague. “Inspector…”
Inspector Saunders takes handcuffs from his jacket and walks forward. For an instant, the now-disgraced Director of CSIS looks like he’s going to resist but instead he takes a deep breath and presents his wrists.
I remember doing the same thing just five hours ago.
“Behind his back,” I suggest.
His look of resignation cascades into a look of venom, but Inspector Saunders does as I request.
Then a thought hits me. “Let me ask you something. Did General Matherson know about the bomb in the aircraft?” He doesn’t answer but his face says it all. “He didn’t did he? He thought he was taking us to some place where we could be disposed of. But you had other plans. Tina’s story in the Daily News Hound dot com exposed the General. To you he was a knight to sacrifice, to take off the board together with the three pawns. Another terrorist attack for you to save the country from.”
I look into Heath’s eyes. We lock eyes for a long time.
Then I say, “I wouldn’t want to live in the Canada you imagine you could mould. Nor would thirty-seven million other Canadians.”
He glares at me but I just smile.
“We’re better than that.” I say.
49
Cal
Monday, eighteen days later
It feels odd walking through these doors. “Cal!” Adry yells as she leaps out from behind the reception desk and gives me a hug. I notice an odd smell but before I can comment, I hear Nick grumbling. “About bloody time,” With a smile on my face, so big it hurts, I walk into the main office. “And don’t expect a hug from me,” he adds. But he can’t suppress the grin. “How was your Christmas?”
“It was great. Tina and I went to Toronto together and she and Ellie got on like a house on fire. I didn’t get to see Sam but that was probably for the best. How are you?”
He shrugs. “The doctors say I’ll live to be a hundred. They just said I mustn’t do any dancing.”
“Tell him, Nick,” Adry sa
ys.
“Tell him what?” he asks.
“Yooooou know.”
“Oh. That. Yes. Well I’m seeing someone.”
“That’s great Nick. Who?”
“My nurse from St. Paul’s. I kinda plucked up the courage to get chatting with him.”
I nod and pat him on the shoulder.
“We saw you on the CBC News,” Adry says.
“Yeah, you were good,” Nick adds. “Did you see on the same newscast that the government made some people in the Iranian embassy persona non grata and sent their asses packing? Your guy, Majid Zarin, was one of them of course.” He gives a big smile. “Since you snuck the name of the firm into the news, we’ve got a bunch of new cases. So you need to sit yourself down at that desk and let’s do morning prayers. You too Adry.” We do as he asks. “OK, let’s get after it. First item: while you were vacationing in Ottawa, Adry did your job for you. She tracked down that missing rich kid and his dad coughed up the fee.”
“Well done Adry.” I give her a big thumbs up and Nick nods enthusiastically.
“Second item,” he says. “Do you want to tell her what we were talking about on the phone before Christmas?”
“Sure,” I say. “Adriana, we’ve decided to fire you as Office Manager. We want you to work on investigations full time. Your first job is to find us a new Office Manager.”
Her eyes are like saucers. They brim up, “You guys!” she says. I feel her tears as she hugs me. “Thank you so, so much.”
“OK.” I say, “Your last duty as Office Manager is to give me the four hundred bucks from the bet that Nick and I had. Susan Grey was not cheating on her husband. I was right.”
She does as I ask and I have the distinct pleasure of waving the notes at Nick.
He responds with, “Susan Grey came to see me in the hospital. She told her husband everything. Gave me the biggest bunch of flowers you’ve ever seen. And she also gave us the cheque from her husband.”
I just grin and pocket the money. I have a plan for it tomorrow.
“Next item,” he says. “Your friend Dougie never came to pick up his shopping cart full of junk. It’s starting to smell up the office. Track him down Rogan and get him to haul it out of here. Next item…”
As he hands out assignments all I can think is: it’s good to be back.
50
Cal
Tuesday
The last time I was at a funeral I was arrested. And I was holding Sam’s hand at the time. Now I’m holding Tina’s. The funeral previous to that, it was Ellie’s hand I was holding. After several long phone calls, Sam has agreed not to make Ellie change her name for which I am grateful.
Father O’Higgins says the final words before the coffin is lowered into the ground. He said a Mass for the soul of Denis Lamarche and the only other attendee was Ghost. If he hadn’t run into me on the streets of the downtown east side four weeks ago, Canada would be a different country today.
Father O’Higgins walks from the grave, shakes our hands and leaves.
We stand in the bitter cold.
“So that’s the end of old Wily,” Ghost says with a sigh.
“I was surprised that Tommy wasn’t here,” I say.
“He’s in the hospital. He got in a fight with a guy twice his size. You know Tommy…” he chuckles.
It triggers a memory. “If you see Dougie Blake, would you tell him to come by my office and pick up his stuff.”
“Din’tja hear?” he says. “Old Dougie froze to death on Christmas Day. He must’a had a drink too many and fell over. Right in Coal Harbour. People walking by and no one checks to see if he’s OK.”
I shake my head. Another victim of the streets. I wonder if Ghost will be next.
“Hey Ghost, it’s December thirty-first, last day of the year. How about a New Year’s Resolution? Why don’t you get off the streets? I’ll help you. I know a nice cheap place you could stay and I can cover the rent for you until you get back on your feet, give you a bit of spending money too.”
He turns a sad face on me. “Thanks Rocky. You’re a good man. But being on the streets is the only life I’ve ever really known.” My thought, Free will: the persistent illusion that we have any control over the choices we make, is broken with, “Of course, a couple of bucks wouldn’t go amiss.”
I give him a smile. “I’ll do you one better than that.” I pull out my wallet and take out the four hundred bucks. “Two hundred for you and two hundred for Tommy.” I hand over the cash and say, “Let’s go and have a big meal and toast old Wily with a few beers. Give him a good send off.”
His cheery optimism returns. “Well, like I always say…” he gives us a big grin… “Fuckin’ A!”
We turn our backs on the grave and head off.
I look at Tina. She smiles and mouths three words.
“I love you.”
Afterword
Thank you so so much for reading Cabal. Lots of readers asked for a happy ending for once, so this was it.
Reviews are the life blood of an independent author. If you have a minute to do a review, it would be really appreciated. Just swipe to the next page. Also, a review at Goodreads or Bookbub is always appreciated.
The other books in the series are Junkie, Oboe, Lockstep and Three.
For more information on my books visit my website or follow me on Facebook.
Copyright © 2020 by Robert P. French
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents, names and places either are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Foreword
Thank you for purchasing Captive the sixth Cal Rogan Mystery. At the end of the book there is information about the other books and contact information.
At the beginning of March, I was about a quarter of the way into writing this book, when we went into lockdown. As the book is set in the current time, I thought about giving COVID-19 a place in the book. But that thought was just too depressing. So Cal and Nick and the gang are operating like it never happened. I hope Captive give you a mental break from the realities of our current world.
Enjoy and stay safe.
Robert. Vancouver, August 2020.
Acknowledgments
So many people go into the writing of a book and I would like to thank those who helped me with Captive.
A special thank you to Alan Woodruff, author of the Lucius White legal thrillers for his helpful analysis of Captive. Thanks also to Cynthia Gould for her proofreading skills from half a world away.
A million thanks to the wonderful members of my Launch Team whose encouragement and support have helped me through the whole process of writing this novel. You pointed out issues with the book and even found a few errors which slipped through. Alphabetically by first name, special thanks to Andrew Stewart, Andrew Tucker, Becky Chatelain, Cathie Austen, Cindy Warrick, Connie Charron, Deborah Bragg, Diane Griffin, Ed Campbell, Fiona Bradford, Ginny Sharma, Helen Heald, Holly Stolarski, Jamie DeAvilla, Janet Cline, JB, Jeffery Benham, Jim Bolger, John Mylett, Jyl Romain, Karan C, Karen Campbell, Kathi Defranc, Kenny Ray Fraley, Larry Branson, Linda DiMezza, Linda Harbour, Linda Longo, Lorraine Garant, Mary Clare Scully, Mel Calaby, Mel Mathews, Natoshia Avery, Neil Watson, Noreen Bloss, Pat Muddle, Patricia Ann Morgan, Patti Flanagan, Patty Laroche, Paul Morgan, Peter Lighthall, Rhiannon, Roger, Shae Curry, Terry Cochran, Valerie Hykawy, Vicky Samson, and Wayne W. Bilow. If I missed anyone, I sincerely apologize.
As always, I would also like to thank the Vancouver Public Library for providing the perfect working location for any writer. Up until March, every word of Captive was written there
… then the monster arrived.
Dedication
To my wonderful wife Penny who believed in me when I had stopped believing in myself.
Zelena
Monday
Monday
So cold. The only light is from the moon as it crosses the tiny window, high up on the concrete wall. The sky is still dark. I put my head back under the threadbare blanket, hoping my breath will bring just a little warmth to my shivering body. I have to pray for what I dread: the morning. When it comes, he’ll come. He’ll take me and I’ll be warm again—a brief moment of bliss. But then… My shivering redoubles at the thought of what comes next.
I can’t think about that. I must focus on my plan. In a weird way it calms me. If I can just distract him for five, maybe ten seconds, then I’ll be free. Free forever.
I think of my parents and the tears come, warm to my icy cheeks.
2
Cal
He looks at Adriana, then at me, then back again at her. We’ve seen this before, a client knowing he’s at the point of no return, knowing that if he tells us why he’s here at Stammo Rogan Investigations, he’ll set a ball rolling which he will no longer be able to control. He looks down at the table, purses his lips, takes a deep breath in and speaks.
Cal Rogan Mysteries, Books 4, 5 & 6 (Box Set) Page 49
