An Element of Risk

by Don Easton

  “Not really,” Jack replied.

  “Let me put it another way,” Reverend Bob stated. “The ammo for the weapons you’re about to see is available, but I’m not going to allow you to ever be in a position to turn our own guns against us.”

  Jack chuckled. “That I understand. It’s simple business. We’ll feel the same need to be cautious when it comes to the money.” He glanced at Reverend Bob. “No worries, we’ll come up with a way to ensure everything is done in a way that everyone feels safe.”

  “We figured you’d have experience at doin’ that,” Luke said.

  Reverend Bob disappeared into a walk-in closet and Jack heard a rumbling sound. He was then waved in.

  The rear of the closet contained a hidden entrance leading to another room. One side of the room contained floor to ceiling shelves laden with canned food and sacks of rice, but it was the other side that really caught his attention. Wooden crates were stacked in piles, while others were strewn about on the floor. Many of the lids were open to reveal that they contained everything from handguns to military-grade automatic rifles.

  This is it. I’ve done it. Now all I need to do is get the hell out.…

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “You have to bless America,” Reverend Bob said as he gestured to the crates. “We have our Second ­Amendment.”

  Yes, it was written in 1791 to assist the militia in the event of an armed invasion from another country. Do you really think your military needs a bunch of civilians coming to their rescue these days?

  Jack decided not to respond to the comment and opted instead to examine an M16 assault rifle leaning against a crate.

  “You don’t have any laws like that in Canada, do you?” Zach said.

  “No,” Jack replied.

  A law written when they used flintlock pistols and muskets. He gazed at the assault rifle he was holding. With a weapon like this, any deranged person could easily turn a mall or theatre into a slaughterhouse. The carnage would be devastating.

  “I can tell by the look on your face that you wish you did,” Zach noted.

  “You read my mind,” Jack replied. “Particularly if it allowed us to get all your military assault rifles. If we could get them in the hands of the average citizen in Canada, things would be far better.” He saw the nod of agreement from Zach and Luke.

  What a couple of assholes.…

  “Well, these ought to help you some,” Reverend Bob said. “Go ahead. Check ’em out. Look in any crate you want … except for the ammo boxes.”

  Jack took a few minutes to rummage through a few of the crates, including one case containing silencers. He looked at Reverend Bob and said, “Your collection is impressive. They’re all new?”

  “Top quality for sure,” Reverend Bob stated. “So go ahead, take your time. Spend the rest of the morning deciding what you’d like to buy. After lunch we’ll go down to the range and you can try them out. That way if you change your mind or want something different, we’ll be able to sort it out before talking price.”

  “You have an actual shooting range?” Jack asked.

  “Shore do,” Luke said.

  Why am I surprised?

  “The range isn’t finished yet,” Reverend Bob said, “but it’ll do for the moment.”

  Jack then turned his attention to the crates, where he spent the rest of the morning examining the weapons and pretending to make decisions while listening to Reverend Bob extoll the features of the various weapons. He also did a silent tally of the number of the crates and the weapons they contained. In the end, he estimated there were approximately nine hundred firearms in total.

  When he’d finished setting aside what he was pretending to buy, he’d selected twenty-one Benelli M4 semi-­automatic 12-gauge combat shotguns, sixty-three M16A2 assault rifles, twenty-one silencer-equipped sniper rifles with night-vision scopes, a hundred Uzi pistols, a hundred Glock 19 pistols, plus another two hundred pistols that included a mixture of Taurus, Kel-Tec, and Ruger brand names. Other things, like laser-grip sights, silencers, and ammunition were still to be decided upon when they went upstairs for lunch.

  Following a lunch of chili con carne, Reverend Bob arranged for Zach, Luke, and Jeremiah to take one of each weapon Jack had selected and put them in the Ram, along with a few weapons he hadn’t picked in the event he wished to change his mind. Zach lingered around the truck while Jeremiah and Luke made more trips to bring up and load the ammunition.

  Really boys, I’m not going to rob you. I’d like to arrest you, but I can’t even do that without burning Lance.

  When they’d finished loading the pickup, Zach and Luke left in the truck while Reverend Bob, with Jack beside him and Jeremiah in the back, followed in the SUV. As they bounced along and skidded through a few muddy ruts Jack tried to make small talk, but Reverend Bob seemed tense and uncommunicative. Is he concentrating on the road … or have I done or said something to set him off again?

  “Anything wrong?” Jack finally asked.

  Reverend Bob gave him a sideways look as he gripped the wheel. “What you’ve selected is worth a lot of money.”

  “Yes, but I thought we were going to negotiate the final price once my selection was confirmed?” Jack replied.

  “Which I figure will be about 1.25 million.”

  “That’s what we agreed to, more or less, depending upon what extras you’re throwing in.”

  “And you boys happen to have that much money lying around? In U.S. dollars to boot?” He cast Jack a suspicious glance.

  “For sure. We do a lot of business stateside. In fact, our B.C. bud is world-renowned. Usually our problem is trying to launder U.S. dollars into Canadian currency along with smuggling it back into Canada.”

  Reverend Bob still seemed troubled.

  “That’s not really what you’re worried about, is it?” Jack questioned. “You’re worried about whether or not we intend to rip you off.”

  “The thought has occurred to me.”

  “I mentioned one idea with Vath earlier. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “No, he doesn’t even know me.”

  “My one suggestion was to do several transactions in smaller lots, but personally I think that adds to the risk of getting caught. What I’d prefer is that once you and I have settled on price and I get my bosses to go along with the weapons I’ve chosen, I’ll come back to the States. At that time you hold me hostage wherever you like while someone from here goes to Canada and is held on our side of the border — either Zach, Luke, or Jeremiah. It doesn’t matter to me which one. Then do the deal all at once. After that, each hostage is set free and everyone goes on their merry way.”

  “I guess that’d guarantee nobody is out to rob anyone,” Reverend Bob replied.

  “I’d be the one who goes to Canada, right Dad?” Jeremiah quipped from the back seat.

  “Uh, sure, you could do that,” Reverend Bob replied.

  I know. Otherwise Zach and Luke would likely be arrested. “Oh? Your own son?” Jack turned and smiled at Jeremiah, then looked at Reverend Bob. “That makes me feel better. Definitely shows you wouldn’t try to rip us off.”

  “Certainly not. I’m a man of my word.” He glanced at Jack. “And with you volunteering to put yourself as hostage, obviously you’re not planning to rob us either.”

  “Hell, no. I value my hide too much to try that.”

  “That’s how we’ll do it, then,” Reverend Bob said. He cast another look at Jack. “Hope you don’t feel offended, but until the moment arrives when I have the money, I’m still not taking any chances with you.”

  Jack brushed off Reverend Bob’s concern with a wave of his hand. “No offence taken. I wouldn’t trust me if I was in your shoes either.”

  “Glad that problem is out of the way, so I guess the big question is when? You still have decisions to make on things like ammo, silencers … laser grips, no doubt. Also have a bunch of night-vision binoculars and such. You might even decide to change what you’ve select
ed after you try them out.”

  “I think I’ll be happy with what I’ve already selected,” Jack replied.

  “Either way, I expect you to be able to decide exactly what you want before the day is over.”

  “I will. That’s definite,” Jack replied.

  “Good. So if we get you back to Canada tomorrow, how long will it take you to get back to me with a firm commitment and a date for the exchange?”

  “There’s a possibility that my bosses may want to make some small changes to the models I’ve selected.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Jack gave the appearance that he was reflecting on the matter. “Even if they do, that would be minor. If anything, I expect they’ll want to purchase more than what I’ve told you.”

  “More? How many more?” Reverend Bob asked anxiously.

  Jack paused, pretending to think. “Maybe another two hundred and fifty. If we did, I’d expect to get more of a ­discount from the price we’re paying for each one as it stands now.”

  Reverend Bob’s mouth momentarily flopped open, then he put on a poker face and said, “I think you’re already getting a good deal, but if you buy that many more, I could maybe move on price a little.”

  “So, with that in mind … let me think … rounding up the cash in U.S. dollars … making the final decision as to how many of what types …” Yeah, your face is already lighting up with greed. “I’d say we’d be ready to do the deal within forty-eight hours of me returning to Canada.”

  “Forty-eight hours!” Reverend Bob exclaimed. “I thought it’d take longer for you to talk to all your chapters?”

  Hell no, the sooner you get me back to Canada the better.

  He eyed Reverend Bob. “I won’t get into the intricacies of it, but basically my bosses on the West Coast have the power to make the decision.”

  Reverend Bob smiled broadly. “God bless you.”

  It would be nice if she did. Mind you, I usually refer to her as Assistant Commissioner.

  Jack saw the Dodge Ram ahead of them slow, then turn onto what was little more than a path and disappear through a clump of trees. He noticed a birdhouse in a tree where the truck had turned. It was the third one he’d seen since they left the bunker and knew that they contained hidden cameras because they matched some of the views he’d seen from the command centre.

  Reverend Bob followed and seconds later they entered a rock-strewn clearing. He parked the SUV and they got out.

  The clearing had obviously been formed when a landslide had slipped from the mountain years before. A sheer rock cliff left in the aftermath had created a perfect backdrop to stop bullets.

  Near the base of the cliff, a piece of cable like the ones used to anchor the lookout tower was strung across the clearing and wrapped around trees on each side. A few torn and shot up pieces of target paper dangled from strips of masking tape attached in increments along the cable. A couple of the targets fluttering in the breeze displayed remnants of human silhouettes.

  Off to one side of a rock-cleared lane through the middle of the range, wooden stakes had been marked with red paint to number distances, starting at three hundred yards near where they stood and dwindling down in number as they neared the targets.

  “Like I said, it’s a work in progress,” Reverend Bob stated as he gazed around. “Someday I’ll have a separate range for small arms that’ll be equipped with motorized pulleys to retrieve the targets, but for now this’ll have to do.”

  “Looks more than adequate to me,” Jack replied. He briefly studied what was before him. Judging by the length of the cable spanning the clearing and the remnants of strips of masking tape, he guessed the range could easily accommodate as many as thirty people in a line to shoot at the same time.

  Reverend Bob appeared to have read his thoughts. “Yeah, sometimes a few of the boys come over to practise. I usually invite a couple dozen or so, then we have a few drinks. Gives us time to talk and prepare for what the world will be like in the future.”

  You mean with everyone living in bunkers and pointing weapons at each other?

  “Sounds like a smart thing to do,” Jack replied. He then watched as Zach and Luke drove to the back of the range, where they hung a dozen of the silhouette targets along the cable. On the way back they laid weapons down at various intervals, starting with the pistols and eventually putting rifles down as they drew near.

  “You’re set to go,” Reverend Bob said when Zach parked beside them. “Jeremiah will walk along with you. Any questions or changes you want made, let him know. Same if you need more ammo. He’s got a bunch in his backpack, but if you need more, tell him and he’ll run back and get it for you.”

  You don’t want me walking back on my own. You’re afraid I’ll hide a gun on me.

  He glanced at Jeremiah. “That’s nice of you. Thanks.”

  Jeremiah smirked, but Jack couldn’t tell if it was because he’d figured Jack knew the real reason or not.

  “We’ll start at the ten, then work our way back,” ­Jeremiah said, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

  They then walked up to the ten-yard indicator, where Jack picked up a Glock that lay beside four other makes, including an Uzi pistol. He ejected the magazine and saw that it was loaded.

  “They’re all loaded,” Jeremiah assured him.

  Jack gestured back toward the vehicles, where Reverend Bob, Zach, and Luke waited. “Aren’t they afraid I’ll take you hostage?” he chided.

  Jeremiah grinned. “My dad actually worried about that, but I insisted.”

  To prove to your dad that you’re a man and are finally starting to make your own decisions?

  “I told him I didn’t think you’d be that stupid,” Jeremiah continued.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not.”

  “Good thing, because both Zach and Luke have sniper rifles and each of them can shoot the eye out of a bullfrog at three hundred yards.”

  Jack glanced back and saw Zach and Luke looking through the scopes of sniper rifles they’d rested across the hood of their truck. “Sure glad I’m not a bullfrog. I’d hate to croak.”

  Jeremiah looked briefly amused, but then became serious. “It wasn’t my idea to have them do that. I’m not scared of you.” He paused, then scowled. “If my dad had his way, I’d never be allowed out of the bunker.”

  “He wants to protect you. Besides, sniper rifles at that distance are the only practical weapon for them to have.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He picked up a stone and threw it, seemingly at no place in particular, then looked back at his dad. “My mom died of cancer when I was six years old. Since then he’s barely let me out of his sight. He treats me like I’m still six years old.” He then scooped up another stone and threw it at the remnants of an old target. He missed.

  “At least he loves you,” Jack noted.

  Jeremiah turned to face him. “Yeah, I know, it’s just … well, I bet you think it, too.”

  “Think what?”

  “That my dad’s a little looney. So are his friends when it comes right down to it.”

  Yes, but I don’t want to tell you that.

  “You disagree with all of this?” Jack asked, gesturing with a sweep of his hand at the gun range, then toward the top of the mountain.

  Jeremiah let out a snort. “I think it’s all bullshit. I don’t see us being attacked. Nobody wants to die. Why can’t we all just be friends and get along?”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why not?” His eyes searched out Jack’s. “I’d rather make friends with people. Not get guns and kill them.”

  “Sometimes life doesn’t leave you much choice when it comes to killing people,” Jack replied. He then aimed at a target and fired several shots, more out of a desire to change the conversation than to see how the gun performed.

  After he fired a few rounds from each of the pistols, they moved back to the fifteen-yard indicator and repeated the process until they were at the twenty-five-yard indicat
or.

  Jack’s lack of prowess in shooting handguns became more obvious the farther he retreated.

  “I take it that guns aren’t really your thing,” Jeremiah stated, with some amusement when a couple of Jack’s shots missed the target completely.

  “Handguns aren’t really my thing,” Jack replied truthfully. “Let’s move back to the hundred-yard marker and I’ll try the others.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Shall we pack the weapons back with us?”

  “No, leave them. Zach and Luke have them all counted. They’re supposed to retrieve them when you’re done.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Upon reaching the hundred-yard marker, Jeremiah handed Jack a couple of loaded magazines for an M16 assault rifle. “So, tell me, what do you think?”

  “Of what?”

  “What my dad says … that the end of the world is near type of shit.”

  “I don’t know.” Jack waited a beat. “Maybe we will end up killing each other. End up in a world where only the strong survive.”

  Jeremiah shook his head in apparent frustration. “You kinda sound like my dad, but I don’t get it. We’re supposed to be the land of the free. Seems like we’re all just paranoid — I don’t think anyone knows anymore what being free and civilized really means.”

  Good thinking kid. Now use your brain and go someplace else and leave this all behind.

  Jack eyed him for a moment. “What do you plan on doing for the rest of your life?”

  “I don’t know. I used to be a computer tech, but quit when we moved here. It’s all so depressing, wondering if what my dad says is true.”

  “What about Zach and Luke? What do they do around here?”

  “Uh, actually they’re my cousins and are just sort of vacationing here. Not sure where they’ll go after. Maybe Alaska.”

  After they get their cut of the money, you mean.

  Jack’s voice became serious. “Maybe you should get out and experience the world yourself. Check out the planet and meet people from different cultures. Sometimes it changes your view about things and could make you better-informed.”