by Ponzo, Gary
Justin held his tongue. There was no point in discussing the merits of her obvious bias.
“It won’t be necessary.” Carrie returned to her folder. “Whatever and whoever was there, they’re now long gone. We’ll be extremely lucky to find even a single trace.”
Pond Inlet, Canada
April 11, 11:25 p.m.
“The pilot was shaking so hard, I thought he was gonna die.” Kiawak raised his voice in order to overpower the shouting of his drinking mates. One of them, a skinny man who seemed to be losing his balance, slammed his beer jug on the table, splashing his buddies. They cursed and shoved him, and he cursed and shoved them back.
“So you were . . . were you . . . man, you wanted to kill the pilot, ha, ha . . .” the skinny man pointed his empty jug at Kiawak and raised it to his thick lips. Disappointed that no happy portion flew down his throat, he yelled at the bartender for another beer.
“No, no,” Kiawak replied, the only one somewhat sober in the wild bunch. “I wanted to put him to sleep for a few hours, so we could patch his wounds. He was allergic to the drugs or something.”
Their chuckles echoed again throughout the small but crowded bar. Kiawak was telling some old hunting adventure, which became more entertaining when embellished with exaggerated details over a few drinks.
Qauins Bar and Hotel at the southern edge of Pond Inlet provided the overnight lodging for Justin’s team. In the bar, Kiawak was grilling his unsuspecting friends for information on anything out of the ordinary in and around town. With a little more than twelve hundred people, everybody knew the private affairs of everybody.
Three tables down from Kiawak’s, Justin kept an eye on the rest of the thin crowd. Earlier in the day, interviews with some of the residents and the courtesy visit to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment produced no results. About two hours ago, Kiawak had moved to Plan B: the Bar Operation. In vino veritas. Justin remembered the Latin expression he had learned while attending McGill University. Wine, or whisky and beer in this case, the saying went, always brings out the truth, even in the best of people.
The wooden door of the bar squeaked as Anna rushed in. The little man at Kiawak’s table ogled her figure, even though she was wrapped in a thick Gore-Tex jacket and a black balaclava.
“It’s . . . it’s so . . . bloody, freezing cold out there.” Anna sat at Justin’s table, still shivering. She wiped the snow off her gloves and the hood of her jacket. Her nose was strawberry red, and tiny icicles adorned her thin eyelashes.
“Well, yeah. With the wind chill, it probably feels like minus twenty-five out there.”
“More like minus one hundred.” She placed her balaclava on the table and straightened her hair. “The inside of my noise is frozen solid. I can’t feel my nostrils any more. All this happened while I was out for no more than five minutes. Oh, I need some hot coffee to warm up.”
“It’s almost midnight. Will you be able to sleep?”
“I know I won’t be able to sleep without warming up.”
Justin called the waitress and ordered coffee. He noticed Kiawak downing a whisky shot, his last one. Five drinks and two hours were the agreed terms of the Bar Operation. Kiawak was getting close to his endgame.
“Where did Carrie and Alisha go?” Anna asked.
“Alisha whined about a terrible headache and left at about the same time you took off. Carrie wanted to get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s long day. Did they know anything at the co-op?”
Anna blew carefully on the hot cup of coffee the waitress had brought her, and took a small sip.
“No, nothing useful. They wanted to talk to me about everyone and everything, but they knew nothing about icebreakers. The food prices were so crazy. I wanted to buy a can of pop and it was five dollars. Five freaking dollars.”
“Well, do you think your coffee will be less? Everything is very expensive here, since most of the year they have to fly in the food.”
The barman, a bald, middle-aged man, approached Kiawak’s table and exchanged a few words with its patrons. Some loud cursing followed, and Kiawak picked up the tab. He escorted his buddies to the bar door and gave a bear hug to each one of them.
“You’re gonna lock up, Kiawak?” shouted the barman after he had cleared the rest of the bar of its patrons, with Justin and Anna the only people still remaining inside besides Kiawak.
“No, he will.” Kiawak pointed at Justin while meandering toward their table. “I’ve got to hit the sack right away.”
“All right.” The barman flipped a switch behind the counter, turning off the main ceiling lights. The bar sank into half-darkness. Justin’s and Anna’s shadows danced under the flickering lights of two floor lamps at the far end corner, near the stairs leading to the hotel rooms on the second floor. Another faint blue light glowed behind the bar counter.
“Oh, Justin, always the unrepentant romantic,” Kiawak said as he dropped in an empty chair next to Justin and rested his hands on the table. They were now the only three people in the bar. “Enjoying some female companionship, eh?”
Justin chuckled. “Anything good coming out of all that drinking, besides your sarcasm?”
“Nothing. Well, almost nothing.”
“What is it?” Anna asked.
“This guy from Grise Fiord, a well-known con, is trying to fence some guns. Big guns.”
“What caliber?” Justin asked.
“They didn’t know. This guy and his partner, well, girlfriend, buy or steal weapons in the south and sell them here in the Arctic, all over the place. Usually, it’s handguns and the occasional semi. This time, it’s large cal.”
“Did you get a name?” Justin said.
“Yes. Nuqatlak. That’s the con’s name. Ring a bell?”
“No. Should it?”
“I don’t know. I hear he’s a small fish, but I don’t know whether the Service knows about him.”
“I’ll see what the Service can dig up on this guy. What’s his last name?”
“Beats me, but there can’t be many Nuqatlaks in Grise Fiord. The whole place has only a hundred and fifty people.”
“Do you think this man is somehow related to our mission?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know.” Kiawak pushed a few loose hairs away from his forehead and rubbed his puffy eyes. “I’m very drunk and very tired.”
“Five shots and you’re out?” Justin said.
“Five’s the limit if you want me to remember names and facts. Anything on top of that and I won’t remember my own name. Good night.”
Justin looked over at Anna. Kiawak’s steps creaked on the wooden staircase.
“Are you going to bed soon?” Justin asked Anna.
“Not that soon. What do you think of this guy, Nuqatlak?”
“He’s not the focus of our mission, unless he’s bringing in weapons from Russia, if we’re to trust Alisha’s hunch. But we asked Kiawak to find anything suspicious, and this increase in Nuqatlak’s business is definitely worth a second look. We’re on our way to Grise Fiord anyway, so tomorrow we’ll have a chat with this guy. Before we do that, I’ll see if CIS has any files on him.”
“Oh, now that I remember, I was thinking about what you said earlier, about discrepancies in the CSE report.”
“Yes. What about them?”
“I was wondering about the odds of these ‘coincidences.’ The bad weather and the computer failure happened at the same time these two ghost ships turned into our waters.” Anna leaned forward, resting her chin on her fists.
“Murphy’s Law?” Justin said with a grin. “If anything can go wrong, it will.”
“I know that, but it seems to work in favor of the ships. I can’t help but think of the movie scene when the security cameras stop working just as the bad guys break into a bank.”
“You think someone is trying to screw up our satellite defenses so these ships go undetected? That’s a bold claim. If Alisha were here, I would have to break up a fight.”
&
nbsp; Anna drew her lips together, closed her eyes, and gave Justin a big headshake. “Oh, gosh.” She sighed before looking up. “Don’t even get me started. I can’t believe you can stay so calm when even her presence irritates me.”
“Why does she upset you?”
“She’s so difficult to work with and stuck in her old, strict ways.”
“How so?”
“Well, she’s so bloody arrogant and patronizing, like she already knows all the answers before even asking the questions. And for some unexplained reason, everything is somehow connected to those Russians she’s so mad about.”
“That happens to everyone. You work in a certain field and to you, everything is related to that. Since it’s so important to you, it becomes your obsession. It grows and tries to take over your life. You see Russians everywhere and their influence in anything, as if they were, well, pretty much omnipresent.”
Anna peered deep into Justin’s eyes. “You talk from experience, I presume.”
Justin hesitated for a brief moment. “Yeah, I guess so, to some extent. But really, Alisha has no life outside her work. She’s not married, has no kids, not even a pet.”
“What the hell? How do you know that?”
“Professional hazard, maybe. But she has a great reputation at her work and a striking record. So we’ll get this job done and leave all this behind us.”
Anna nodded and covered a yawn.
Justin said, “Hopefully, we’ll cover more ground tomorrow. Now we should try to get some rest.”
“No, I’m still buzzed from the coffee. And I’ve got the munchies. Hmmm, I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
“I’ll get you some dessert.” Justin stood up. “Strawberry shortcake? I think I saw some in one of the fridges. I’m sure the barman wouldn’t mind if we dipped our fingers in the pie as long as we pay for it.”
“Sure.” Anna smiled. “Why did you notice the shortcake? Is that your favorite dessert?”
Justin hesitated.
“Well . . . yes. No. It . . . it used to be.” He struggled for the right words, the fatigue of the late hour and the fond memories visible in his flinching eyes. “It’s actually Carrie’s favorite dessert.”
“And you served it to her as a midnight snack on your dates?” Anna dared to ask.
Justin did not answer. He walked behind the bar counter, although the fridge was on the other side. Anna stalked him, apparently determined to get an answer.
“It was a long time ago,” Justin conceded after a long pause, leaning over the fridge. He dug out two plastic boxes and placed them on the counter. “We’re still good friends.”
Anna took a fork from a drawer underneath the counter and handed it to Justin.
“Since you opened this door,” Justin said, “care to tell me about your midnight dates?”
Anna blushed and smiled. “I haven’t had any midnight dates for a while,” she said with a sense of anticipation in her voice. She took a brief pause as if rethinking the rest of her reply. “Until now,” she added under her breath.
Her last two words were loud enough for Justin to hear but soft enough for a quick denial.
Justin pretended he missed Anna’s not-so-subtle hint. I’ve promised myself not to fall for someone I work with. Besides, it’s not the right time.
Anna shrugged and dug into her dessert. “Hmmm, this is so good,” she said in a long moan. “Thank you so much.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
“Justin, what made you wanna do this?”
“You said you were hungry.”
“No, silly. I mean this job. Being a secret agent.”
“In preschool, when playing hide and seek, I was very good at finding the other kids.”
“Ha! Very funny. In that case, you should have been a PI.”
“This job is much more fun. What made you want to impress a jury?”
“I don’t do litigation. Our section does research, analysis, and gives legal advice. I’m usually locked in the office for eight hours straight. On the rare occasions when I’ve seen the inside of a courtroom, it has been from a spectator’s seat or the witness stand.”
Justin nodded and licked his fork.
“But, you’re right in a sense,” Anna said. “I do want to impress someone. My father.”
“What does he do?”
“He used to be a judge for the Court of Queen’s Bench, until he retired last year.”
“Health problems?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“A simple guess.” He shrugged. “That just happened to be right. Well, I have a bit of insight, since I know a few people here and there who can access certain databases—”
“No, you didn’t?” She threatened him with a fork full of whipped cream. “You ran a background check on me?”
“Guilty as charged, your honor.”
“You won’t be smiling when I’m finished with you.” Anna placed her box and fork on the counter, but Justin had already darted for the stairs.
“Don’t forget to clean up,” he said, keeping his voice as low as possible.
“Tomorrow, you’ll pay for this, Justin Hall.” Anna pointed her fork in his direction, but Justin noticed a joyful glint in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about the cake.”
“Good night, Anna. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Justin.”
* * *
As he climbed up the stairs, Justin failed to notice a small shadow creeping next to the fire exit door, at the far end of the hall on the second floor. It was Alisha, hiding in the dark. She had been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.
“Arrogant? Difficult to work with? Patronizing? Somebody’s life is going to get extremely difficult, Justin. And I promise you won’t see it coming,” Alisha mumbled as she tiptoed toward her room.
Chapter Five
Grise Fiord, Canada
April 12, 8:15 a.m.
“Neither Nuqatlak nor Levinia, his longtime girlfriend, used their cellphones during the night or this morning.” Justin handed Kiawak a printout while whispering into his microphone. Aboard the Eurocopter NH90, the communication set earphones cancelled the constant rattle of the helicopter’s engine. “So even though we bugged their phones, there’s no new intel.”
Kiawak, sitting behind Justin in the second row of seats, glanced at the chart, full of rows of phone numbers, the time of the calls and their length, all from days ago. He shrugged, and passed it to Alisha, who sat across from him and next to Anna.
“We’ll be on the ground in five,” Carrie said and dropped the helicopter about ten feet.
None of the passengers were surprised by the stomach-twirling fall. The ride from Pond Inlet had been bumpier than if they drove a pickup truck without shock absorbers. But the helicopter had allowed the team to cross the two hundred and seventy miles separating the two towns in a little more than ninety minutes.
“Let’s hope he’s still there,” she added.
“Well, the office confirmed Grise Fiord has been Nuqatlak’s official address for the last three years,” Justin replied.
“You’ve got a problem right there,” Carrie said. “Official. Like his official job, which is a trucker.”
“Well, his files at the CIS and the RCMP were pretty thin, so that’s all we’ve got,” Justin said.
Alisha was analyzing the phone records Kiawak had passed her. “Who’s Job?” she asked.
“Levinia’s brother, I assume,” Anna replied. She tilted her head but could barely read the printout. Alisha was holding it close to her face. “They’ve got the same last name. He’ll be our next stop, if a search of Nuqatlak’s home turns up nothing.”
Carrie tapped the helicopter’s controls and the aircraft veered to the left. They had just crossed the Jones Sound that separated Ellesmere Island from Devon Island during the short summers but joined them with a thick ice cap the rest of the year. The ice floes, which had just started to melt, resembled large pieces of shat
tered glass. At the shore, the small houses of Grise Fiord came into view. Carrie gained some altitude, in order to climb over a series of cliffs about five hundred feet high that loomed over the town.
“This should muffle the chopper’s noise and give us the advantage of surprise,” Carrie explained. “By the time they notice us dropping over the town, hopefully it will be too late.”
She stared at the frozen plains and chose a suitable place for landing: a solid ice field, clear of ice boulders and with no visible large cracks. She brought the helicopter down without any problems.
Justin and Kiawak jumped out of the helicopter only moments later.
“Here we go again in the cold,” Anna whined in protest as she zipped up her jacket and put on her gloves.
* * *
Carrie had just set foot on the ground when a black snowmobile jumped over a tall snow bank and landed with a loud thud on one of the narrow trails leading outside the town. The vehicle coughed out a cloud of gray smoke and sprayed a storm of ice shreds from its rear. The driver headed south, toward Jones Sound. A second rider hung tight onto the driver as the snowmobile bounced over the ice bumps of the trail.
“Who’s that?” Anna asked.
“That’s our target,” Carrie replied.
Justin and Kiawak were running toward the town, in the opposite direction of the fleeing snowmobile. They would never be able to catch up to Nuqatlak and his accomplice on foot, so they were looking for a vehicle. Kiawak knocked on the door of the closest house, while Justin stood by a Mazda truck parked in the driveway.
“What do we do?” Alisha asked.
The three women were standing by the helicopter.
“We can’t follow them in the chopper,” Carrie replied. “If they’re armed and fire at us, a damaged chopper means the end of our mission.”
“So we’re just going to stay here?” Alisha asked with an accusatory frown.
“No. Follow me.” Carrie pushed the helicopter’s door shut and gestured toward one of the houses. “We’ll go after them.”
“Who tipped him off?” Anna asked, trying to keep up with Carrie, who began running. Alisha had already fallen behind, struggling with the slippery ice sheet covering the trail.
