Unredeemed

by J M Dolan

  “I gotta tell you, Polonius, it’s damn nice to be myself for a minute, it gets wearing being Miss Cheery all the time.” She dragged heavily on her cigarette.

  The Wolf turned an intense gaze on her, noting the crowfeet and lines of fatigue around her eyes and pursed mouth.

  She exhaled the smoke in one long breath with half closed eyes, holding onto the very end of the exhalation like a sixties hippie.

  “I’ve placed a tracker on any search for data related to our recruit, as you requested. Your suspicions are proving accurate. Someone is making inquiries into the system.” The woman reached into her pocket and handed him a small thumb drive. “I’ve put what information I could on this. Not sure what’s going on, but you might be able to sort it out. The trace tells me the inquiries are being made by Supervisory Agent, Franie Le, but from what little I can tell, not at the request of staff.”

  “It’s time for a holiday then,” he commanded.

  Reynaldo raised her brows in question.

  “Plan to be away for at least a couple of weeks. I can find a nice vacation villa on the Aegean at short notice. I’m not here because everything is going smoothly. This last placement hasn’t turned out to be as good a fit as we’d hoped.”

  “I’ve wondered, but it’s not my place to question,” Reynaldo was suitably subservient. “I thought maybe you’d send a replacement or have me fill in, rather than risk losing the pharmaceutical inside line. The company you’re planning to infiltrate recently made the news with its new nerve drug. They hope to send the drug to human trials soon, and our mark would be privy to top-secret details.”

  “Which is why we will need to activate our second operative sooner than I’d planned. How is she doing?”

  “She reports the old man is easy to manipulate and she’s made headway with the son. Since his position as a research doctor at the pharmaceutical company makes him the mark, I’d say things are going well.”

  “Good, good.” The Wolf allowed a touch of approval to seep into his voice.

  “The son seems attracted to her though it’s not going to be easy. The man works all the time, doctor’s curse. His recruitment to spearhead the human trials was recently announced, so things are falling into place.”

  “Let’s move up the timeline. Tell her to start feeding meds to the old man and ingratiate herself further into the doctor’s affections. Veronika’s not going to be available.

  “Oh, why?”

  The Wolf sent her a bug pinning look. “Never question.” It was a reminder she’d forgotten and overstepped her bounds. Reynaldo dropped her gaze.

  “Have her concentrate on securing her relationship with the son. The grieving widow’s a better sell and our caregiver angle is getting old. Remind her that if she can’t handle it there’s a lot at stake for her family. No one is indispensable.”

  “She’s been trustworthy and a good plant. It might not be best to force her hand.”

  “Sometimes,” the Wolf growled, “sacrifices need to be made for the benefit of the whole and this has become a live to fight another day situation.” He moved away from the wall and back into the alley, “Smoke breaks over, time to get back to work.”

  The woman took the half-smoked cigarette from her lips and dropped it to the ground, grinding out the smoldering butt with her shoe. Wordlessly, she turned to retrace her steps to the alley door.

  “Oh, and Reynoldo...”

  Marge paused to look back at the watching Wolf.

  “Put the vacation request in with your supervisor today and leave as soon as possible. There won’t be a safety net on this one.”

  “What about Sofiya? She’ll need a new handler if Veronika’s not in play.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sam leaned back in his chair and studied the impressive visage that was Thomas Avery.

  Avery was a ginger. And, impossible though it seemed, surprisingly his bright red hair was overshadowed by full sideburns and an imposing walrus moustache. The prize winner topped his upper lip and at first glance, pretty much stole the show. His face was craggy and those pale blue eyes could level a piercing gaze or twinkle merrily. He had a marvellous sense of humour.

  Sam had caught a government puddle hopper up from Calgary, then a taxi to Edmonton’s Canada Place — the Federal building on Jasper Avenue. Avery’s office with Public Safety was located on the 6th floor of the pink, step-shaped building.

  He and Thomas Avery had become good friends over the years. Avery’s work brought him to Calgary frequently so they got together once a week, for a little strength training at the gym and a little cutthroat at the racket ball courts. Tommy Boy had a wicked backhand. He came by his athletic ability honesty. Casey Avery, Thomas’s father, had been a professional baseball player and Thomas excelled at that sport and others.

  Right now, Avery had a fierce grip on the phone which was cradled to his ear, deep in conversation with the head of Public Safety. He was giving the man a good listening to.

  Sam felt the vibration at his hip and was already reaching into his pant pocket for the device, when the cell phone chimed. A quick glance at the display showed the incoming caller.

  “Hey Jamee, what’s up?”

  The sweet husky voice hummed in his ear. “Apparently, the immigration consultant and placement agency Jeff hired was fraudulent. CBSA laid charges against them but that ship sailed when the people involved hightailed it and, so far have eluded the authorities.”

  “How do you find out these things?” Sam exclaimed. “No, on second thought, don’t tell me.” He was rewarded by the sound of Jamee’s soft chuckle.

  “I’m curious by nature,” confessed Jamee. “Curious like a George monkey and something’s out of place here. It’s like taking a walk through the woods and coming across a senior’s bus tour with no ice cream stand in sight. The picture’s just not right.”

  The imagery caught him by surprise, produced a sly chuckle.

  “I’ve learned from my source that Koval and Kaminski, are likely here as temporary residents with work permits that appeal to baser male interests. Nothing yet,” she remarked, “on the activation of the live-in caregiver visa. I’ll forward you a full update.”

  There was a split-second of silence and Jamee pounced on it. “I’ve been pondering the situation and I have a favour to ask of you, and your Public Safety contact. I’d really like a chance to see any surveillance footage that might show Koval and Kaminski, at the Dorval and Pearson Airports, or YYC.” She paused. “We could all look at the results together. The more eyes on it, the better chance we have of spotting something.”

  “Not to mention, it will help to cover up all those mysterious leads you keep coming up with,” joked Sam. “Just remember, a trio of little dogs could become a big dog’s hors d'oeuvre.”

  “Ha, ha,” she shot back.

  “That reminds me, how’s that research analyst contract from Public Safety coming?”

  “You need to temper your expectations,” grumbled Sam.

  “Hold up a minute,” protested Jamee. “It’s not expectations I have Sam, but faith in you.” The playfulness disappeared from her voice. “I apologize if I overstepped, sometimes I can run with the bit in my teeth.”

  The statement was made with such sincerity, Sam had a nagging notion to accept her remark as genuine. That wasn’t going to keep him from poking at her though.

  “What do your dance partners say?” parried Sam.

  “What?”

  “I’ll bet you like to lead,” he teased.

  The comeback was quick. “I also like to be on top sometimes, but that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

  An image of Jamee rising above him, flashed into Sam’s brain. “You sure do have the knack of distracting and re-directing down pat.” Verbal sparring with the woman was like a military operation. Shifting gears, he started again.

  “How’s your afternoon and evening schedule?” Sam’s tone was back to business.


  “Clear, if that helps,” said Jamee.

  “Meet me for a late afternoon lunch here in Edmonton. That will give Thomas time to set something up for us to review. Then you can save me the flight home by giving me a lift. And for my part, I’ll keep you company on the drive back.”

  “Sounds like a plan, Kemosabe.”

  “Babe”

  He had detected a hint of sarcasm so he let the word sound wounded. Somehow he didn’t think Jamee was the side-kick type.

  Sam hit the off key and turned back to Thomas, who was now off the phone and grinning from ear to ear. Sam had a feeling Avery had overheard a good deal of his conversation. Rule book play — best defense was a good offense. Sam launched immediately into his update, hoping to delay Thomas from getting personal.

  “Jamee says both Odessa Koval and Veronika Kaminski entered Canada at Dorval Airport. Twelve days later they were on the same flight from Toronto to Calgary. Somehow or other, she’s found out that at the port of entry the women were granted Temporary Resident Visa’s and a valid one-year work permit. The work permits were issued, but documentation is vague as to what that work might be.” Sam paused, “They are most definitely fraudulent. The women’s documents are connected to a case the CBSA had already been working. Their investigation involved the agency that provided immigration services to Jamee’s brother-in-law.”

  “Hell of a coincidence,” said Avery.

  “I’m thinking of it as fate,” said Sam, surprising himself with the confession. Still, for the time being when it came to the subject of Jamee, he planned to avoid a heart to heart. Not that the man hadn’t caught the remark, if the narrowed eyes and inquiring gaze were any proof.

  “The CBSA,” Sam continued, “found several forged CIC documents authorizing work in Canada. They were cross-referenced through our Public Safety tracking system to Canadian employers.

  “Given the evidence, the CBSA raided the agency office, but came up empty. The bad guys had skedaddled. Lastly, Jamee says the live-in caregiver visa has yet to be activated.”

  “Bloody hell, man,” Thomas growled, “how is it that woman is always one step ahead of me?”

  “Me too.” Sam laughed. “She’s asking access to check footage from the surveillance cameras at Montréal, Toronto and Calgary airports and suggesting that the three of us meet to go over the tapes together.”

  “Brilliant,” conceded Thomas, “I’m in. Right after I initiate an inquiry into any brown nose’n, CBSA cock-ups at Montréal’s Dorval,” he growled.

  ***

  Jamee had been given choice of location. Normally, she had a preference for pub food and atmosphere. In this case though, one of her favourite Edmonton establishments, the MacDonald Hotel, or more affectionately the Mac, was conveniently located near Canada Place.

  Built in 1912, the Chateau-style, historic railroad hotel was a city landmark that stood as an icon of the rich and famous. Jamee loved history. The architecture, the antiques and life style, granted mostly that of the upper class was something she had a passion for. She sometimes wished she’d been born in a different time, though she admitted she was not so fond of outdoor plumbing.

  Jamee loved to take in the ambience and decided to eat in the lounge. The stunning vistas of the North Saskatchewan River were reflected in a series of 20-foot-high windows, opening onto a limestone terrace. She loved the dark wood and the black iron and brass accents of the room. It was nice to cozy up to the massive stone fireplace and enjoy the view.

  She’d barely been seated when Sam strolled through. He was wearing a leather aviation jacket, casual tan coloured pants, soft leather slip-ons and a navy shirt, open at the collar. She liked the way he moved with vitality, loose and fluid. Spotting her, he flashed a warm smile and moved in.

  He bent down and she involuntarily closed her eyes. Sam softly brushed her check with warm lips and she was surrounded by his scent – a smooth vanilla with a spicy finish that was all male. He definitely had it goin’ on. She fluttered thick lashes open and there he was sitting next to her, golden-brown eyes holding her gaze.

  “Have you had a chance to order?”

  “No, just got here myself,” replied Jamee.

  They ordered drinks — beers. Jamee went with the Alberta Pickerel burger and Sam the Canadian skillet with samplings of bison, Canada goose and elk.

  “Save room for pie,” Sam warned.

  “I always do,” Jamee assured him, “nothing but a big black hole in my belly and I’ll guarantee I’m no slouch when it comes to pie.” There was more than a hint of warm affection in her voice. “It’s my favourite.”

  “We may have established that already,” Sam said, and they both laughed.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be finding your Achilles heel too.”

  The lounge was quiet at that time of the day and it wasn’t long before the cold beer was sitting enticingly on the table. They picked up their drinks and clinked bottle necks speaking together the familiar toast.

  “Slàinte!”

  Holding the bottle to his mouth, Sam took a long pull. Jamee watched him swallow, eyes closed in appreciation, as the icy liquid cooled his throat. His gaze slid to her face when he lowered the bottle.

  “Want a taste?” he asked pouring beer into a glass and holding out the frosty pint.

  Jamee took the stein, although she wanted more than the beer. A look and a quick sip was followed by a shudder…the waitress had described it as a dark brown ale. It wasn’t just brown, it was an oil change, Leduc Crude.

  “Wow, an oil patch favourite,” she said “and an acquired taste.”

  “Can be,” was his smooth reply.

  The meal arrived and the next little while was spent savouring flavours and enjoying each other’s company. They found they had a lot more in common than just Jamee’s family.

  Keeping things light, topics ranged from food, to music, to favourite sports.

  “Well, that was fun,” said Jamee as they closed in on the last mouthful. “I’m really enjoying getting to know you.” She didn’t quite hide the surprise in her voice.

  “Me too, “Sam replied. “Now I accept I’m a workaholic, but you sound like this is an exception. Sparse social life?

  “Country girl, living the quiet life so I guess you caught me. It is pleasant to lunch with someone new and you’re good at it. Conversation, I mean and a good listener. Makes me feel interesting and charming.”

  “You are interesting and charming. Don’t doubt it for one minute. I’ll add attractive and provocative in the hope of securing a real date outside of business.

  “And I’ll give that some thought.” She felt herself blush, hated that it spoiled the cool cookie image she’d been going for.

  Their waitress returned to clear the table and brought them coffee. Jamee passed on the pie, stating on second thought she’d save her indulgence for the home-made variety. Pie would be in abundance with Thanksgiving just around the corner. The end of the lunch hour brought a measure of quietness and privacy to the room. It was the opportunity Jamee was looking for to bring the conversation around to the investigation.

  “I want you to know I appreciate your support and prompt action with the surveillance tapes. I’m hoping they will give us a new lead, cause right at the moment, my well is dry.”

  “I do have an interesting development to share. Public Safety has been contacted by our emailer. Apparently, Inspector Volkov is following up on his email with a personal visit to Canada. He has requested the government’s assistance and permission to be a part of our investigation. After the usual red tape, the request was granted and Thomas Avery redirected the query to the Solicitor General’s office. I’ve been asked to liaison with Volkov on behalf of all involved departments. Aleksey Volkov is arriving today. Our first meeting is set for nine a.m. tomorrow morning.”

  Jamee processed the news with raised eyebrows. She was surprised by the extent of investigation being taken on by the Kiev Prosecutor’s Office. “I�
��d sure like a chance to do my own assessment and pick the man’s brain,” she confided. “A personal visit seems somewhat excessive.”

  “Don’t worry, said Sam. “Both you and Thomas will be dialed in, once I get the lay of the land.” He motioned for the bill. “Let’s head over to Thomas’s office. He should have the surveillance tapes set up for perusal.”

  ***

  They made the short walk to Canada Place and were directed by security to a small IT lab. The room appeared set up especially for all matters related to surveillance. When they entered, Thomas Avery was already in residence having garnered a spot and positioned two additional chairs.

  “Thomas, hope we didn’t keep you waiting long,” Sam greeted his friend.

  “Nope, just got here.” Avery got to his feet and moved towards the couple.

  “Thomas, let me introduce Jamee Blair.”

  “Jamee, it’s a pleasure. I’ve been looking forward to this moment.” Thomas extended his hand.

  “Thank you so much for bringing me into this,” Jamee said, swinging her gaze to include Sam.

  “Rubbish,” Sam interrupted her, “though I applaud your finesse.”

  “Sam,” murmured Thomas with sympathy, “I believe described it as — finagled your way in.”

  “Perhaps I’ll just grab a nap then, while you guys work it out.” Jamee shrugged.

  “And what makes you so confident,” challenged Sam.

  “Smarter than the average bear,” Jamee shot back.

  Thomas sent Sam a meaningful look. “Wicked sense of humour, you’re in big trouble, sunshine.”

  Thomas held out an official envelope. “If you kids are done pranking each other — Jamesina Blair, it gives me great pleasure to see my big friend over there squirm. So on that note, and with confidence, on behalf of Public Safety having verified your previous work for the department, I offer you this standard contract. I’ve thrown in a bonus clause to recognize this isn’t your first rodeo.