Face-Off

by Michael Betcherman

  “What time do we have to leave for the game?”

  “Six. Mom’s picking Boris up at the travel agency and then she’ll come get us.” Alex turned to Emma. “You still coming to dinner tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry I won’t get a chance to meet your dad,” she said to Stefan.

  They said their goodbyes and Alex headed to the library. He stopped before turning the corner and looked back. Stefan and Emma were standing by his locker, holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes as if nobody else in the universe existed. The only person who’d ever looked at him that way was Anna, and he only knew that because he’d seen his baby pictures in the photo album. Come to think of it, she could have been looking at Stefan, he thought.

  Richmond dominated West Vancouver from start to finish, and by the time the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard read Cougars 4, Lightning 1.

  The mood in the locker room afterward was euphoric. The win had kept the team’s undefeated streak intact and given it undisputed ownership of first place in the league.

  “Great game, Alex,” Doug Harvey said.

  “Thanks.” Alex had played another strong game, but he knew he’d have faced a tougher test if Stefan had been in the net for West Van. The Lightning’s backup goaltender let in a couple of easy goals in the first period and his teammates played tentatively after that, reluctant to take any chances on the offensive end in case they gave Richmond a scoring opportunity. Alex had been sharp when he had to be, but it had been a relatively easy night.

  “Man, we creamed them,” Harvey crowed.

  “Feels good,” shouted Terry Gilliam.

  “Almost as good as sex,” Jeremy Westover said, clapping Alex on the shoulder. “Right, buddy?”

  “Not if you’re doing it right,” Alex said. Everybody in hearing distance laughed.

  “Nice win, gentlemen, but don’t let it go to your head,” Coach Hampton said as he walked into the room. “We beat a wounded team tonight. West Van was missing their starting goalie and their two best offensive players. That’s not the team you’re going to meet in the playoffs, so I suggest you hold back on ordering the championship ring. We’ve got a lot of hard work ahead of us.”

  His assessment pretty much summed up the way Alex looked at it. It was nice to win but the victory didn’t mean much. West Van would be a different team when his brother was back between the pipes.

  “I’m turning in,” Anna said as she walked into Alex’s bedroom. He was playing the hockey video game Stefan had given him. “Make sure Stefan locks the door when he gets in.” Stefan had taken Boris to the airport after the game so he could catch his flight back to Maldania.

  “I will.”

  “You played a great game tonight, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Alex was still playing the game a half hour later when he heard Stefan come upstairs. He expected him to come in and say hello but Stefan went straight to his room and started playing his guitar. It was one of the songs he and Boris had played, one of the sad ones. Alex got out of bed and went into his brother’s room. Stefan stopped playing.

  “You okay?” Alex asked.

  “I’m good.” He started playing again.

  Alex plopped down on a chair in the corner of the room. A framed enlargement of the photo Stefan had taken of the two of them at the top of Whistler hung on one wall. A collage of photos from Stefan’s life in Maldania was pinned on a bulletin board on another wall, with pictures of Stefan from the time he was a little boy. They reminded Alex of the different lives they had lived before they met, and of all the years that had been lost.

  When the song ended Alex got to his feet. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  He walked out of the room. As soon as he closed the door, Stefan started playing another song. Another sad one.

  TWENTY

  The following weekend was a long weekend—Monday was a teachers’ professional development day—but Alex had all his homework done by noon on Saturday. He had stayed home Friday night and gotten up early that morning to finish it. That was the deal he and Anna made in exchange for her allowing him to work the rest of the weekend at the travel agency. Roman had three tours leaving in the next week and needed all the help he could get.

  Alex put his books away and put on his jogging shoes. He didn’t have to be at the travel agency until two. He was on his way out the door when Roman called.

  “Can you come in early? I’m having trouble with my computer. I can send out my emails but I’m not receiving any … and yes, I tried restarting it,” he added quickly before Alex could ask.

  “No problem. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Alex said. He’d go for a run later. It’s going to be a profitable weekend , he thought happily. He could almost hear the Vespa purring.

  Lara was at her desk when Alex arrived.

  “I didn’t know you were working today,” he said.

  “Sorry. I forgot to clear it with you.”

  “Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour,” Alex said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Why didn’t Roman get you to fix his computer?”

  “I tried. Couldn’t figure it out.”

  “It’s a man’s job.”

  “Why don’t you give it a shot anyway?” Lara said with a smirk.

  Roman was talking to Tomas when Alex walked into his office.

  “Thanks for coming in,” Roman said. He got out of his chair so Alex could sit down at the computer.

  Alex and Tomas gave each other the same hostile stare they’d been exchanging in the three weeks since their fight, but neither said a word. The two of them had reached an uneasy truce. They spoke to each other only when it was an absolute necessity, and Roman had reorganized the chain of command to keep that at a minimum. Whenever Tomas needed anything, he was to call on Lara. Roman had followed through on his promise to lay down the law to Tomas and it apparently had done the trick. Tomas hadn’t said another word about the Stork or the Snowman, at least not when Alex was around, and as long as he did that, Alex would keep up his end of the bargain.

  “I know Boris is busy, but it’s a mistake to wait until January to do a second tour,” Tomas said, resuming a conversation Alex had obviously interrupted. “Someone else can lead the tour. We need to strike while the iron is hot.”

  Alex sat down in front of the computer and went to work.

  “Boris said he doesn’t have anyone he can trust,” Roman said.

  “We know people in Berovia. We can find somebody.”

  “What’s the problem? Lina’s school bills adding up?”

  “It doesn’t end with the tuition. They ding you for everything. But that’s not the reason I want to move on this. We’ve got some momentum. We need to take advantage of it.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” Roman said.

  Tomas held his hands up in mock surrender, an unhappy look on his face, and walked out of the office.

  Alex saw that Roman’s inbox was full. He increased the inbox capacity and sent out a test mail. “You’re good to go,” he said to Roman when it arrived.

  “What did you do?” Roman asked. “Never mind, I wouldn’t understand.” He handed a folder to Alex. “Give this to Tomas. Think you can do that without starting World War III?”

  Alex nodded. He took the folder and walked out of the office. Lara was about to leave for muay Thai practice. “Did you fix it?” she asked.

  “What do you think?” Alex said, as if it was the most ridiculous question ever. He flexed, mimicking a bodybuilder’s pose.

  “I think you’re goofy. But cute. What did you do?”

  “It’s way too complicated to explain to a girl.”

  “I take back the bit about you being cute.”

  Alex was working on a comeback but Lara was out the door before he could think of one. He went into Tomas’s office. Tomas was on the phone, his back to the door. “Tell Esteban I called about the passport,” he said in Berovian. Alex knocked on t
he doorframe. Tomas swivelled around in his chair. “I’ll call you back,” he said abruptly as soon as he saw Alex. He had a guilty look on his face. A very guilty look.

  “You think Tomas is trying to get a passport for Koralic?” Stefan asked after Alex told him about the conversation he overheard in Tomas’s office. They were in the living room, about to watch the Canucks game against the New York Rangers.

  “I’m not going to jump to any conclusions, not after what happened with Roman, but he’s up to something. That’s for sure. You should have seen the look on his face when he realized I heard him on the phone.”

  “If Koralic is still in Italy, he’ll need a passport to get out of the country,” Stefan reasoned. “And if he’s here he’ll need one to get out.”

  “And don’t forget about the plastic surgeon’s website I saw on Tomas’s computer,” Alex said. “The one for Lina’s nonexistent nose job.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything.”

  “I know. But you’ve got to admit it’s pretty suspicious.”

  “Who’s Tomas getting the passport from?” Stefan asked.

  “Some guy named Esteban.”

  “Esteban?” Alex nodded. “What did Tomas say exactly?”

  “Birud Esteban bosni passaporta. ‘Tell Esteban I called about the passport.’”

  Stefan had a stunned look on his face. “Say that again,” he said.

  “Tell Esteban I called about the passport.”

  “No. In Berovian.”

  “Birud Esteban bosni passaporta.”

  Stefan stared at him, wide-eyed. “He didn’t say Birud Esteban. He said Birud Desteban.”

  “Big deal. So his name is Desteban.”

  “Desteban isn’t a name. It’s slang—for a fat man.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Alex and Stefan were waiting outside SpyZone when the doors opened at ten Sunday morning. It was part of the plan they’d come up with the night before, a plan based on the assumption—although prayer might be a more accurate description—that Tomas would lead them to the Snowman. The first part of the plan—not to let Tomas out of their sight—was already underway. Lara had driven to his house early that morning so she could follow him wherever he went. She’d already texted Alex to tell him that he’d gone straight to the travel agency.

  A middle-aged man wearing a bowtie was behind the counter. “How can I help you boys?” he asked.

  “We want the voice-activated pen recorder,” Alex said. They’d seen it on the store’s website. It cost $139 plus tax, which would delay the Vespa delivery date by a few weeks, but that was a small price to pay if it led to the capture of the Snowman.

  The salesman unlocked a display case and took out a box. “You know that it’s illegal to record a conversation without the permission of one of the parties,” he said as he opened it.

  “We know that,” Alex lied. “It’s for a school project.” The words sounded stupid the moment they came out of his mouth but the salesman didn’t challenge him.

  “It’s very simple to use,” he said. “You push the clip down to record. And then use the cable to plug it into your computer when you want to listen. It also works as a pen in case anybody gets suspicious.” He showed them how it worked.

  “We’ll take it,” Alex said.

  “A school project?” Stefan said when they walked out of the store. “That’s the best reason you could think of?”

  “I didn’t hear you come up with anything,” Alex said. “Anyway, he didn’t care why we wanted it. He was just covering his ass.”

  “Covering his ass?” Stefan asked.

  “It means making sure he won’t get into trouble if we use it illegally.” Which, of course, was exactly what they had in mind.

  The door to Tomas’s office was closed when Alex arrived at the travel agency.

  “Did you get it?” Lara asked. Alex nodded. “Cool,” she said after he showed her how the pen worked.

  The minutes ticked by slowly as Alex waited for Tomas to leave his office so he could plant the pen. His eyes were riveted on the door, willing it to open. Twenty minutes later Tomas came out and went into the washroom. Alex jumped to his feet and raced into his office. He turned the recorder on and put the pen in the cup where Tomas stored his pens and pencils. He was back at his desk in less than a minute.

  Tomas came out of the washroom and returned to his office, closing the door behind him. Alex could hear him on the phone but couldn’t make out what he was saying. He imagined that every call was the one that would lead to the Snowman. An hour later Tomas emerged, wearing his coat. “I’ll be back after lunch,” he said to Lara. “If anyone needs me they can get me on my cell.”

  As soon as Tomas walked out the door, Alex got to his feet. Lara handed him the keys to her mother’s car. “Stefan or I will call you if there’s anything on the tape,” she said. Lara was going to listen to the English telephone conversations. If there were any in Berovian, she’d send the files to Stefan.

  Alex followed Tomas north on Main Street, making sure to keep a few vehicles between them. There weren’t all that many red Honda Elements in Vancouver and Tomas knew that Lara’s mother drove one of them.

  Tomas turned right on East 12th and then left on Commercial Drive. Just after he passed East 3rd, he pulled over and parked. Alex did likewise a block back. Tomas got out of his car, crossed the street, and went into a Greek restaurant.

  Alex walked to the restaurant. He pulled his baseball cap down over his forehead, raised the collar of his jacket, and cautiously peeked through the window. His heart was beating a mile a minute. He quickly glanced around the restaurant. Tomas was seated at a table in the corner, his back, thankfully, to the door. A man with black hair brushed straight back and a bushy moustache sat across from him.

  Alex went back to the car and waited for Tomas to come out. A couple of minutes later, Lara called. “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Outside a restaurant, waiting for Tomas. What’s up?”

  “He’s meeting somebody about the passport,” she said, unable to control her excitement. “I just listened to the phone call he made before he left the office. He told whoever he was talking to that they were ready to move ahead. The guy told him to bring the money and the photos. And to make sure the photos were the right size,” she added meaningfully. That clinches it, Alex thought. They both knew from working at the travel agency that passport photos had to be a specific size. “Then Tomas said he was leaving right away and would see the guy soon.”

  “He’s seeing him right now.” He told her about the man in the restaurant.

  “Roman asked where you were. I told him you went to get new straps for your goalie pads.”

  “That was smart.” Just then Tomas walked out of the restaurant, alone. “I gotta go,” Alex said. “Tomas just left the restaurant. I’ll call you later.”

  “Be careful,” she said.

  Alex followed Tomas as he drove back up Commercial Drive and turned right onto East 12th. When he made a left on Main, Alex assumed he was going back to the travel agency, but instead he made a right on East 13th and turned into the parking lot of Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church. Alex didn’t know what to make of that. Tomas was Catholic, but he went to the Berovian Orthodox Church on Hastings along with the rest of the Berovian Mafia. Alex drove past the entrance to the parking lot and pulled over to the curb farther down the road. He got out of the car and hid behind one of the trees that lined the side of the road. Tomas was standing by his car, smoking a cigarette.

  Just then Alex’s phone rang. It was Stefan. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said. He was as excited as Lara had been. “I just listened to a call Tomas made. He told the guy on the other end of the phone to pick up some slivovitz for ‘our guest,’ and to get the best stuff he could find.”

  He didn’t have to explain. Slivovitz was a thoughtful gift for a guest who was visiting from Berovia. And you’d want to get the best stuff if your guest was someone special. Some
one like the Snowman.

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Stefan asked.

  Alex was still thinking about how hard it was to believe after Stefan hung up, when a taxi turned into the parking lot and pulled up beside Tomas’s car. A man got out of the back seat of the taxi and into the passenger seat of Tomas’s car. Alex only saw him from behind. He wore one of those hats you see in old black-and-white movies, the kind with a brim all around, and he was fat. Very fat. Alex warned himself not to let his imagination run away with him. The warning went unheeded.

  Alex crept closer to the parking lot, using the parked cars for cover. He hid behind a large recycling bin near the entrance and carefully peeked out. The vantage point gave him an unobstructed view of the fat man sitting in Tomas’s car but he was too far away to see his face. Using the camera on his phone, he zoomed in as close as he could, but all he could see was that the man wore sunglasses and the front of his hat was tilted down—as if he didn’t want anybody to see his face. Alex snapped a couple of pictures. His stomach was churning like it did before a big game. What had seemed hard to believe a couple of minutes ago suddenly didn’t seem so hard to believe. If that’s the Snowman, how did he manage to get into the country? Alex asked himself. And how long has he been here? Then he realized it didn’t matter how or when he arrived. The only thing that mattered was making sure he didn’t leave.

  Alex was wondering just how he was going to manage that when the fat man got out of Tomas’s car and got back into the taxi. Alex raced back to his car. As he jumped behind the wheel he saw the taxi drive out of the parking lot and turn right on Main Street. Tomas followed. Alex sped after them. When Tomas passed East 20th, he pulled into a parking spot across from the travel agency. Alex shielded his face with his hand as he passed Tomas’s car and prayed that Tomas wasn’t looking his way.

  He followed the taxi up Main Street. Just before they got to Marine Drive a Canada Post delivery truck pulled out into traffic and cut in between Alex and the taxi. As the taxi went through the intersection, the mail truck signalled for a right turn. It stopped at the corner to allow a few pedestrians to cross the road, forcing Alex to stop as well. He glanced in his side-view mirror but the steady flow of traffic in the passing lane kept him stuck behind the mail truck.