The driver slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. He produced what appeared to be a driver’s license and some kind of ID card, along with a small wad of money.
The security officer examined the documents closely, and then handed them and the money to the other officer. The senior officer’s eyes narrowed and a scowl spread across his face.
He issued an angry retort to Dharwal.
Dharwal replied but the response only seemed to anger the senior officer more. He gestured with his arms and appeared to be demanding they all get out of the vehicle.
Dharwal turned to his companion in the front seat and uttered something in Arabic.
Without hesitation Garzai slipped Dharwal a 9 mm 92-F Beretta. Without warning Dharwal ended the conversation.
He suddenly raised the pistol and fired twice.
The first shot struck the officer in the left shoulder. The second bullet found a fatal mark by hitting the man in the forehead blowing out the back of his skull. Blood and gray brain matter sprayed away in a cloud above his head.
The second fat guard was caught by surprise but soon recovered.
He reached for his pistol, but Dharwal fired twice again. Both bullets cored into the guard’s chest. He sunk to the ground twitching in spasms.
Dharwal tramped his foot on the gas pedal.
The car lurched forward and struck the front end of the vehicle blocking the road. Dharwal turned the steering wheel hard right. The Lada responded and veered around the vehicle.
“Oh shit, what the fuck are you doing? You’re going to get us all killed,” Trevanian screamed at Dharwal. “If I showed my media accreditation I could have talked us out of this.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Trevanian. They’re looking for insurgents and that officer was intransigent. He was not going to accept any bribe. We must as you say, run for it!”
Trevanian glanced out the back window and saw more soldiers running toward a Hummer.
Two Pakistani soldiers dropped to their knees and fired AK-74 rifles on automatic setting. Like machine guns they stitched the air with a volley of slugs. Trevanian heard them pinging off the frame of the Lada.
He ducked down to the floor just as the rear window shattered. A hail of bullets caught Dharwal and Garzai. Blood and greyish brain matter spattered over the windshield.
The car suddenly veered to the left, out of control. It hit the edge of the highway and started to roll.
Trevanian was tossed around inside the vehicle like a sack of potatoes. His head struck the back of Dharwal’s seat.
Suddenly everything went dark.
The Lada lay upside down with its wheels still spinning.
Chapter 38
Daily Express Parking Garage 3:25 PM
KATIE CANNON exited the elevator into the parking garage. She headed towards her blue Grand Am parked in slot 33.
As she walked toward the car, she fished into her brown leather purse for her car keys. She approached the vehicle and thought it appeared to be sitting very low.
“Oh shit. Of all the times to have a flat,” she spoke aloud to herself. Katie stared in disbelief at her bad luck. The left front and rear tires were both flat as a pancake. What were the odds of two tires going flat?
There is nothing for it but to call a cab, she decided. She needed to get down to the police station as soon as possible. Katie reached for her cell phone. Just as she started to flip it open, she heard her name being hailed.
“Hey there, Miss Cannon. Do you have a problem?”
Security guard Ian McDonald slowly approached her.
“Oh, Ian. I have the worst luck. I seem to have two flat tires and I need to get down to police headquarters right away. I’m about to call a taxi.”
“No need for that, Miss Cannon. I’m just getting off shift. I’d be happy to give you a lift. It’s on my way home anyway and it will be faster than calling a cab.” Ian smiled cheerily.
“You’re right about that. Thanks, that would be fine if it’s not too much trouble. You’re a real life saver.”
“No problem, Miss Cannon. It’s all part of the security service. My vehicle is just over here in the next row. Follow me.”
“Right-o, Ian. And no need to be so formal. Please call me Katie.”
“As you wish, Katie. The vehicle is not far.”
Katie followed Ian over to the next parking row. He pulled out his keys and used the remote to open the doors.
The vehicle was a maroon Ford Explorer.
“Nice vehicle, Ian.” Katie opened the front passenger door and slipped onto the seat.
“It suits my purposes quite nicely,” said Ian getting behind the wheel. “Buckle up and away we go, Katie. You’re in for quite a ride.”
Chapter 39
The Westin 3:30 PM
MEGAN YOUNG strode into the lobby of the Westin Harbour Castle Hotel feeling confident.
She wanted to forgive Dennis and try to save their relationship. She was prepared to give whatever it would take to make things work between them.
Room 1116. That’s the room Dennis said he was in.
Megan hoped he would be there now. She bypassed the front desk and headed right for the tower elevators. What a surprise Dennis would get!
She turned left out of the elevator. The room was three doors down.
She plucked up her courage, knocking softly on the door. No answer. Perhaps he was out. Megan rapped on the door again – much louder this time. So hard it hurt her knuckles.
She heard the latch unlocking and the door swung slightly ajar. Dennis popped his head around the door.
“Megan! What are you doing here?” Dennis seemed shocked to see her.
“Surprise, Dennis! I thought about what you said and decided to take you up on your offer. I think we should give this relationship another shot. I’m prepared to forgive and forget if you promise to be faithful from here on in. I must tell you that I had an awful row with Daddy over you. He thinks I should throw you to the curb. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“That’s lovely, darling. But why don’t you wait for me down in the bar.” Dennis appeared uncharacteristically flustered. “I need to have a shower and shave. I was just catching an afternoon nap. I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”
Just then Megan heard a woman’s voice in the background. “Who is it, darling? Is that room service?”
Megan pushed hard against the door.
Dennis fell back and the door swung wide open. Standing in the back of the suite in the doorway to the bedroom was an auburn-haired, buxom babe wrapped in a bath towel, which barely covered the essentials.
It was Teresa – the woman Dennis met in the bar.
Megan’s eyes fired up. She felt a blush coursing through her face and turning into heated anger.“No! It isn’t room service. I think you’ve already had plenty.” Megan lashed out with her right hand, striking Dennis across the cheek. “You cheating bastard. We’re through!”
She strode off down the corridor, leaving Dennis clad in a bath towel, rubbing his cheek. He just stared, speechless, as Megan stomped off down the hall.
Chapter 40
Inside the Ford Explorer 3:35 PM
IAN MCDONALD’S Ford Explorer headed out of the garage of the Daily Express onto Dundas Street, west toward Bay Street.
From there he headed north on Bay Street towards College Street. The 12-storey Toronto Police Headquarters building was located at 80 College Street, only a few minutes drive from the paper.
“Thanks so much for the lift, Ian,” said Katie. ”I need to get to the police station as soon as possible.”
“What’s up at the cop shop? A big story?” Ian gave a quizzical look over at Katie.
“It’s the Wolfman. The police believe he may be one of our staffers.”
“One of the newspaper employees, really? What makes them think that?”
“The e-mails he sent to me have been traced back to the paper. They came from Thomas Philpott’s computer
. They’ve been questioning Thomas about this, but they now seem to have ruled him out. It must be someone else at the paper who had access to Thomas’s computer.”
McDonald laughed and smiled. “Why on earth would they ever think that faggot could be the Wolfman? Philpott’s such a wimp.”
“I know it’s ridiculous, Ian, but if it’s not Philpott, then it’s got to be someone else at the paper.”
Katie noticed that they had just passed College Street.
“Whoa, Ian. You passed the street. We needed to turn back there.”
Ian smiled. “Never mind, Katie. Your plans just changed. We’re going for a little ride. I have other ideas in mind for you. So just sit back and enjoy the experience. I know I’m going to, news bitch!”
Katie was stunned.
Why would Ian do this?
He always seemed such a nice friendly, easy-going guy. The personality switch was totally unexpected …..and frightening.
No, he couldn’t be, thought Katie. Surely Ian McDonald isn’t the Wolfman. But he used that terminology ‘news bitch’ that occurred so frequently in his e-mails to her.
Katie tried to reason with him. “Come on Ian, the joke’s over. You got me good. But I need to get to the police station right away. This is important business. Please turn the vehicle around.”
“Shut up, bitch!” Ian snarled at her with a dark expression, which overcame his face. “You’re not in control now. I am. You will do exactly as I say or suffer the consequences.”
Katie felt terrified and helpless.
She gripped the door handle and turned it, but the safety lock was firmly in place. There was no way she was getting out of that vehicle while it was moving.
Stay calm, she told herself. Keep your head and wits about you. An opportunity to escape may come and she wanted to be ready to grasp it.
“So you think you’re all so smart” said McDonald. “You and the cops. I’ve been right there under your noses the entire time. If you want to stay alive, you will sit quietly and do whatever I say.”
“I’ll not give you any problem, Ian. But I will soon be missed when I don’t turn up at the police station. Detective Sergeant Peter Moon is expecting me soon.”
Ian laughed. “So what. They don’t know I have you. You will have just disappeared. They won’t know the first place to begin to look. I am taking you to my lair. You’re about to make headlines in your own paper, Miss Cannon. Only this time you won’t be writing the story.”
Chapter 41
Daily Express Newsroom 3:55 PM
ANDREW CHASE felt deeply disappointed as he entered the Daily Express newsroom.
The place was a hive of activity as usual in late afternoon. Many reporters at their desks were busy writing their stories after covering their assignments for the day. Editors and sub-editors were electronically editing and rewriting copy.
But Chase noted Katie Cannon’s seat was empty at her desk.
He had hoped she would be here. He desperately needed to talk with her. He needed answers.
After his lunch with Ashley, he desperately wanted to discuss her proposal with Katie. He must find out Katie’s long-term aspirations for their relationship.
Chase loved Katie and wanted her to become his wife. He was tired of the secrecy and the uncommitted nature of their relationship.
It was time for choices – for both of them.
It was high time for Katie to decide whether she wanted a life together with him where she could play a role as his partner in life and the newspaper. It was time for him to evaluate where things were going and to look at the best options for the future of the paper and his life.
Love or money? That’s basically what it came down to for Chase.
He could marry Katie for love or take up Ashley on her offer for a substantial investment by her father that would keep the paper afloat for a few more years. Perhaps by then it would be running on a profitable basis.
Chase had two great loves in his life -- Katie and the Daily Express.
Perhaps it was pre-ordained that he could only keep one. A man could only be so happy in this life. To have both is perhaps too much to expect.
He walked over to Katie’s desk, deep in his thoughts and stared at the vacant seat. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted.
“Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Chase?”
Chase looked over to the right of Katie’s desk toward the source of the interruption. It was that rookie reporter Donna-Marie Pierce. She had stopped working at her computer terminal and was staring at Chase.
“Oh, Miss Pierce, I am looking for Katie Cannon. There’s something important I need to discuss with her.”
“Sorry, sir, you just missed her,” said Pierce. “I believe she went to police headquarters regarding that Wolfman case. She left about a half-hour ago. Can I take a message for her?”
“No, that’s alright. I’ll talk to her when she returns.”
Chase was about to turn away when he was hailed from behind. Braden Young emerged from his office at the far end of the newsroom and waved him over.
“Good to see you slumming down in the newsroom, Andrew. It is nice to have the publisher mix with the plebs. We’re about to start our final news story line-up meeting at 4 p.m. for tomorrow’s paper. Would you like to join us and see the editors fight over who gets the front page? It’s always an interesting session. Sometimes I’m surprised there isn’t blood on the floor before we’re finished.”
“Thanks for the invitation, Braden. Perhaps I’ll take you up on it some other time. I need to get back to my office right now. I have some important business to deal with. I was hoping to catch Katie Cannon for a moment, but it appears she went down to the police station.”
At that moment, Braden Young’s secretary interrupted. “Mr. Young, you have a phone call from Sergeant Moon at Toronto Homicide. He’s wondering where Katie Cannon is. Apparently he was expecting her down at police headquarters.”
“What, she’s not there yet?’’ Young’s voice took on a note of concern.
“Miss Pierce here says she left over a half-hour ago,” said Chase. “It’s only a 10-15 minute drive down to police headquarters unless she got stuck in traffic.
Both men dashed into Young’s office. Young picked up the phone, identifying himself.
“Mr. Young, Detective Sergeant Peter Moon here,” said the voice on the phone. “I was expecting your reporter Katie Cannon to come down here, but there’s no sign of her.”
“I’m surprised at that, Sergeant. She apparently left over half an hour ago. She should be there by now. I’m sure she would call if there was a problem. I’m a little concerned given this e-mail threat by the Wolfman.”
Moon’s voice took on a note of concern. “So am I Mr. Young. Especially since we have strong reason to believe this killer is an employee of your newspaper. The e-mails to Katie emanated from the computer of your librarian Thomas Philpott. We’ve been interviewing him extensively, but it seems unlikely he is our killer. Any number of employees could have had access to his computer. We are going to have to kick him loose. That means your real killer is still out there and a threat to Katie.”
“Oh my God, man! I hope she is OK.”
At that moment, Young’s door opened and Donna-Marie Pierce rushed into the office. “Mr. Young, I went down to the garage to check on Katie’s car. It’s still parked there with two flat tires, but there is no sign of Katie.”
Chapter 42
Toronto Island Waterfront 4:20 PM
MEGAN YOUNG sat on the wooden park bench staring out at the placid waters of Lake Ontario.
White sails on the small yachts dotted the horizon on the sparkling blue lake off Toronto Island.
Megan had caught the ferry over to the island. She needed a quiet place to think. Her life was a mess. Her relationship with Dennis was over.
No job, no home and now no man in her life.
She had refused to listen to her Dad. She had left saying cruel
things to him. Her mother was off in Europe living her own life. What future could Megan look forward to?
She looked out at the calm waters of the lake. They seemed inviting as her depression deepened.
The water lapping gently onto shore seemed to offer a sense of comfort and finality. Megan had never learned to swim. It would just be a matter of walking out into the lake and letting it claim her.
Calm, peaceful. It offered an end to the soulful pain that overwhelmed her.
She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She punched in some numbers. Braden Young’s voice-mail answered.
“Hello, daddy. You were right,” said Megan. “I should have listened. I’m sorry. Dennis is such a louse. I went to him and found him with another woman in his hotel room. I can never trust him again. We’re through.”
Tears started to well up in her bright, green eyes. She began to choke out the words.
“I don’t know where to turn, daddy. I can’t take this pain anymore. I’m sorry for taking it out on you. Please forgive me. Goodbye.”
She hit the end call button on the phone. She left the cell phone on the bench and began to walk slowly toward the lake.
Chapter 43
Peshawar, Pakistan Friday 2:30 AM
TREVOR TREVANIAN slowly came back to life.
The blackness receded. Trevanian felt his head throbbing like it had been hit with a hammer.
He opened his eyes and saw bright neon light overhead. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was lying on a bed. One arm was handcuffed to a bed railing.
He felt an overwhelming thirst. His throat was parched. His lips cracked with dryness. Next to him was a Pakistani nurse checking his blood pressure.
“Water, please,” he rasped.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” said the nurse. She had an angular face with short black hair, but skin like dark caramel. “You took quite a crack on the head. The doctor says you have a mild concussion, but you should recover in a couple of days.”
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