Above Ground

by Don Easton

  Legg saw the angry look on Isaac’s face. That’s when it occurred to him that Taggart might be armed. He placed his hand on Taggart’s forearm while nodding to Randy to do likewise.

  “Damn it, Harry! Let go of the man’s arm!” ordered Isaac.

  Legg quickly pulled his hand back in surprise.

  Isaac looked at Jack and said, “I owe you an apology and I believe apologies should be made in person.”

  “Sir?” said Jack.

  “I’m afraid I made some presumptions that turned out to be false,” said Isaac. “With your association with Damien, coupled with Bishop’s death in Mexico at the same time you were in the country ... well, it aroused my suspicions.”

  “Sir, that was just a coincidence. That is what I have been trying to tell —”

  Isaac raised his hands, gesturing for Jack to stop. “I know. I just received a report from our LO. The day Bishop died, you were on the opposite side of the country. A place called Merida.”

  “Sir!” said Legg. “What proof is there of that? Even if he was booked in a hotel, it doesn’t mean that he didn’t —”

  “Don’t interrupt!” said Isaac. He then looked back at Jack and continued, “There’s more to it than that. Something that makes me even more ashamed of my actions.”

  “Sir?” asked Jack.

  “An incident near the hotel you were staying in. It took place the same morning Bishop died...”

  “The Angeles de Merida?” asked Jack.

  Isaac glanced at the report in his hand and said, “Yes.” He then looked at Randy and Legg and said, “That morning, five thugs jumped a policeman in an alley. They credit Taggart with coming to his rescue and saving his life.”

  “Oh, that,” said Jack. “It was really nothing. I barely remember the incident.”

  “Well, they do! They have a report on it. They wanted to honour you with an award, but you left before they could get their act together. They said they tried to locate you but weren’t able to. Speaking of which, you don’t use credit cards much when you travel, do you?”

  “I find I can negotiate better rates at some places using cash. Especially in Mexico.”

  Isaac nodded. “Well, they would like to see you get recognition for it. Later, at a more appropriate time, I’ll be presenting you with a letter of commendation.”

  “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate that, but now I am kind of busy. May I get back to work?”

  “You certainly may.”

  Isaac waited until Taggart left his office before turning his attention to Randy and Legg.

  “Do you think he was sincere?” asked Isaac.

  “Sir?” responded Legg.

  “Taggart ... do you think he was sincere?”

  “I certainly think so,” replied Legg. “This is rather embarrassing. I’m afraid I may have been a little overzealous in my questioning.”

  “There is an addendum on the report from the LO,” said Isaac. “Take a look.”

  Both Randy and Legg leaned over Isaac’s desk and read: “The policeman who claims to have been rescued by Jack Taggart arrived at the meeting on a new Yamaha motorcycle. Unusual, considering the low salary of policemen in the area. This may be coincidental, but it should be noted that Satans Wrath has a history of influence with the Mexican authorities. Undoubtedly, this is the very reason that Sidney Bishop fled to this country.”

  “If Taggart is innocent,” said Isaac, “I do not wish to be embarrassed any further ... so be careful.”

  “Sir?” asked Legg.

  “Don’t close the file on him yet,” said Isaac.

  It was late afternoon when Pussy Paul met with Leitch and passed on the information that he was the subject of a police wiretap. Leitch’s concern was immediately evident on his face. Pussy Paul was barely out of sight when Leitch used his BlackBerry to send Ray a text message to arrange a meeting.

  It was the last message Leitch would ever send.

  chapter thirty

  Laura drove into the office parking lot and picked up Jack, who stood waiting for her.

  “How did it go?” she asked. “You didn’t call me this morning, so I figured...” Her voice trailed off as she waited for a reply.

  “You figured right,” replied Jack. “Everything has been cleared up. They discovered I was on the opposite side of Mexico when Bishop died.”

  “Really?” said Laura, looking surprised.

  “What have you got?” said Jack, changing the subject. “On the phone, you said you had a good lead.”

  Laura nodded and passed Jack her notebook as she drove. “It took awhile, but between Customs and company checks, I finally hit pay dirt. Take a look at the last entries. You were right about the van. It is registered to the same company that picks up shipments of coffee from the dock. I’ve found seven different addresses associated with them.”

  “Perfect!” said Jack, while scanning the addresses that Laura had written in her notebook. “Let’s go! Find that van and I bet we find Vicki and Katie!”

  Leitch sat on the park bench and warily watched the faces of various people as they passed him. He didn’t think any looked like police officers. He was right.

  Leitch stood when Ray arrived, and the men walked while Leitch divulged what he knew about the police wiretap.

  “Does it really matter, ol’ chap?” asked Ray. “We have never spoken of any illegalities on the phone. Why are you so worried?”

  “I didn’t think you wanted anyone to know that you were here. Obviously the police are aware of your presence!”

  Ray smiled, then patted Leitch on his back and said, “You gringos ... you really do worry too much. They were bound to find out sooner or later. We will buy them. Do not worry.”

  “It is not as easy in this country,” said Leitch. “Some can be bought, but it is much more difficult. Bribery ... killing those in the judiciary ... it is not the same as in your country.”

  “Still, they must be reasonable,” said Ray. “My brother has an expression. Silver or lead. Reasonable men will take the silver. If not, they will die. Either way, it is not a problem.”

  Leitch felt less anxious as he walked with Ray back to the parking lot — until he discovered he had been duped.

  Jack peered through the window of the premises. It was a small unit in the middle of a commercial mall where the businesses appeared to be wholesale outlets. The door was locked and there was nobody around. It was a few minutes past six o’clock and the other businesses were also closed for the day.

  “This place is like the last,” said Laura. “What’s inside? Half a dozen chairs and a coffee machine? From the outside, you wouldn’t even know this was a coffee shop.”

  “It’s not,” said Jack. “It’s a laundromat. Got any dirty fifties on you?”

  “Not on my salary. No back rooms?”

  “They wouldn’t be here,” replied Jack.

  “Four down, two to go,” said Laura. “Want to grab a burger first?”

  Jack shook his head.

  Damien lay down on the back seat while Lance and Whiskey Jake sat up front and drove through Damien’s gate. Several minutes passed before Lance indicated that they were not being followed. Neither Lance nor Whiskey Jake had been informed about what they were doing. Damien’s instructions were brief and Lance drove as directed.

  Rush hour traffic was over by the time they arrived at Wet Willy’s. The automatic car wash was closed and looked to be deserted, but Lance knew otherwise. He spotted a striker sitting low in the seat of a parked car at the front of the business. Two more of Rellik’s men sat in a truck at the back. Security remained where they were while the three bosses were ushered in a rear door.

  The lights were on inside, but tarps hung from both doors, giving the appearance that the business was in darkness.

  Rellik nodded to them as they entered and gestured to the two men who were tied spread-eagled and face-down between the inside rails of the car wash. Both men were naked except for the band of duct tape wr
apped around their mouths.

  “This how you wanted ’em?” asked Rellik.

  Damien nodded.

  Both men turned their heads and stared up at them. Lance recognized Leitch. His face was thin and pointed, making his wide eyes look almost comical. His hands were tied close to the soles of the feet of the man in front of him. Lance didn’t recognize this man, whose dark eyes stared up at him.

  “Leitch dancing with the Indos?” asked Whiskey Jake.

  Damien shook his head, then looked at Rellik and said, “Show them.”

  “Found this in his Mercedes,” said Rellik, while handing Lance and Whiskey Jake a Colombian passport. The meaning became startlingly clear.

  “This ... Ramon. He’s Carlos’s brother!” said Lance.

  Damien nodded. “They call him Ray.”

  “Dealing with The Toad,” said Whiskey Jake.

  “Probably,” said Damien. “We do know he was dealing with Leisure Suit Larry here!”

  Leitch mumbled something inaudible while pleading with his eyes.

  Damien turned his attention back to Rellik and said, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but right now all I want is my wife and daughter back. They do any talking?”

  Rellik prodded Leitch in the ass with the toe of his boot and said, “Larry says that Ray is just a client. Says he didn’t know that he had anything to do with us.”

  “Liar!” screamed Damien, stepping between the rails and kicking Leitch hard in the groin.

  Leitch’s body arched and bucked against his restraints. Despite his gag, his scream and whimpering echoed through the room.

  Damien savagely kicked Leitch again and saw Ray looking back over his shoulder. Leitch’s body became a quivering mass after the third kick.

  Damien continued to stare into Ray’s eyes, then walked up and ripped the tape from his mouth.

  “Where are they?” Damien asked. “My wife and daughter — what have you done with them?”

  Most men would have told, but Ray was no stranger to torture ... only he had always been the one to inflict the pain. He knew his life would be worthless once he talked.

  “I — I don’t know,” he said. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  Damien looked at Rellik and said, “Get on with it!”

  Rellik grinned down at the two victims and said, “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the talking stick!”

  Ray gasped when he saw Rellik pick up a length of broken broom handle with a spiral of barbed wire wrapped around the end. He held the stick close to Ray’s face and slowly examined it.

  “Please ... no ... sir,” pleaded Ray. The reason for his nakedness and face-down position had become evident to him.

  Rellik stepped between Ray’s legs and slowly twisted the end of the stick between his buttocks. The barbs drew thin red lines of blood.

  “Please, no!” screamed Ray. “You must believe me! My brother is the boss. He controls everything. Everything! It was his men ... I don’t know where they took your family. Please, call him. He will pay big money for me. Big money...”

  Damien held up his hand, gesturing for Rellik to stop, then held out the cellphone that Carlos had supplied him earlier. “His number,” said Damien. “Give me his number and I will hold the phone so you can talk to him!”

  Jack scanned the warehouses in the industrial area that Laura was driving through. It would be dusk in another hour, but there were still a few trucks moving about.

  “This looks good,” said Laura. “Independent warehouses. Trucks and vans coming and going.”

  Jack saw the address they were looking for. He also noticed something else. “Keep driving! Don’t slow down or look!”

  “Someone eyeballing us?” asked Laura, as she drove right past.

  “There’s a guy sitting in that pickup out front.”

  Laura caught sight of the truck in her rear-view mirror. It was backed into a parking stall. “People getting off work. Maybe waiting for someone,” she offered.

  “Or standing six,” said Jack.

  “Did you get a plate?”

  “No front plate. Find a place to park where we can watch. This could be it.”

  Laura parked where they could watch the warehouse through binoculars. The pickup truck remained out front.

  Jack received a call on his cell and handed the binoculars to Laura.

  “Hey, Johnny Canuck! How you all doin’ up there?”

  “Jim-Bo! How are you? Heard you were out of the country.”

  “Just got in. Tried to do a sting on the head honcho of a Colombian cartel. Didn’t go well.”

  “Carlos?”

  “No. The Diego Ramirez cartel. He’s in close competition with Carlos, though. They were at war with each other up until a couple of months ago. Looks like they settled on a truce for now. Ramirez operates out of Cali, while Carlos operates out of another city just north of Cali called Buga.”

  “Were you successful in nailing Ramirez?”

  “Naw. We tried to set up a sting on him. He has a weakness for redheads. Got a CI close to him and tried to sucker him out of the country so we could grab him. Didn’t work. Ramirez is smart. Cultured too. Speaks perfect English and generally pretends to be a gentleman. When it comes to cocaine distribution, Ramirez is about even with Carlos. He’s a major player. We’ve been after him for years. Same as Carlos. Both top drug lords we’d like to put behind bars.”

  “What can you tell me about Carlos?”

  “He’s the opposite of Ramirez. Relies on terror to stay where he is. Not that Ramirez is averse to torture and murder, but he generally tends to be more subtle and will give someone time to reflect upon how much money could be made. Carlos’s organization is more inclined to offer a smaller bribe while they stick a gun in the person’s face and pull the trigger if they refuse. That’s if Carlos is feeling nice. Otherwise he tortures them to death.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “Yeah. Real nice. Sally said you all called. Was it about Carlos?”

  “Yes. I want to know everything about him. Particularly in regard to kidnappings.”

  “I can tell you that you don’t want to be on the receiving end. His organization has snatched lots of people. Usually they’re found mutilated. The guy is a real psycho. He’s got lots of enemies. Never leaves Colombia and always travels with at least thirty bodyguards. Well connected, too. The asshole always wears a green beret. I think he does it to relate to the militant factions down there that he hires to protect his labs. We’ve tried for years to get evidence to extradite both him and Ramirez. So far, no luck.”

  “A fellow up here owes Carlos money. His wife and daughter were grabbed for ransom.”

  “Yeah? Well tell the guy he probably won’t be seeing them again ... at least not alive.”

  “Appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this call. The guy confided in me but doesn’t want the police involved.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “Speaking of which, someone tried to kill me and murdered the wrong guy by mistake. Then almost murdered my partner’s — I mean my ex-partner’s — baby.”

  “Jesus Christ! You all right?”

  “I’m still above ground. You never mentioned my name to anyone over that ship I gave you, did you?”

  “Not a soul. In the warrant I just listed you as a reliable CI. Haven’t told anyone, including my people.”

  “Didn’t think so. The guy I’m after is dark-skinned but has a British accent. I figure he’s Indo.”

  “British accent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Carlos has a brother by the name of Ray. Ramon in Spanish. I thought he was in Britain. He got his masters at Cambridge in business administration. We figured he was going to return to Colombia and help Carlos launder money.”

  Jack stared at his phone for a moment, then yelled, “That’s it! Carlos knows! It is retaliation for what I told you!”

  “Jack ... I’m sorry. If it is Carlos, I still don’t know how he could hav
e found out about you.”

  “It has to be! You said he’s a psychopath! Ray is here! I know it! He’s doing his brother’s bidding!”

  Carlos listened to Ray gasp and choke out the words, describing where he was and what had happened. Damien heard the outrage as Carlos screamed into the phone.

  Damien then spoke into the phone and said, “So, Carlos! If you want to see your brother again, you’ll let my family go. You’ve got five minutes and then the next call I get better be from my wife!” He hung up before Carlos could reply.

  The minutes crawled by and everyone in the car wash remained silent as they waited. Three minutes later, the phone rang. Damien smiled with satisfaction as he answered.

  “I have telled my men to move your whore and bastard girl,” said Carlos. “If you hurt my brother, he will not be able to tell you where they are.”

  “Let me speak to them,” demanded Damien.

  “You will not speak to me in that manner,” replied Carlos. “You understand. I have two peoples. You have one.”

  “I have your lawyer,” said Damien.

  Carlos laughed and then said, “I no care about him. I bought him for nothing. One hundred thousand dollars Canada. He then talk to me. He tells me all about you. Who can trust hombre like that? Kill him if you wish. He is not important.”

  Damien glanced at Leitch and cursed silently, then demanded, “Let me speak with my wife. I want proof that they’re alive!”

  “You will have talk soon, amigo. I have telled my men. You will get such a call in one hour.”

  “Good. Then...”

  “But you have now attacked my family. My ... what you call honour. One of your family is die because you make more mistake. In one hour you can tell me which one!”

  “What do you mean!” Damien yelled before realizing that Carlos had hung up. He quickly redialled. No answer.

  Damien looked at his men, who stood waiting for instructions. He had none.