Jack tossed his duffle bag on the bed and started transferring his things to the smaller courier bag he had picked up earlier that day.
He had finished picking out his hunting bow and arrows at the Canadian Tire store Dave had recommended when he saw the display of backpacks and courier bags. He tossed one in his cart. It was smaller and easier to carry than his duffle, but it looked like it would hold a lot of stuff. Never know when this might come in handy. He paid and went out to Dieter's for some target practice before their meeting.
He had been the archery champion at summer camp three years running, but hadn't kept it up. It was good to feel the weight of the bow in his hands again. It was nicely balanced, and felt more, what? More primal, he guessed. He put an arrow on the string and pulled it back.
Thwup. A little shy. He adjusted his aim and tried again. Thwack. Bull's eye.
A few more quick arrows told him he hadn't lost his touch. He had no plans to use the weapon, as he had his gun. But it would be part of his cover and he wanted to be prepared. He headed up to the house where Dieter and Denis were waiting.
Jack pointed to the map spread on the harvest table in Dieter's kitchen. "Okay, if we hit here, here, and here, that will knock out the supply to the refinery at Bowden." He named a nearby town. Dieter and Denis sipped their coffee and looked at the spots Jack indicated. Jack cocked his head at Dieter. "That will send a pretty big message. I've chosen the locations that will cause the most damage with the least risk. None of these are sour gas wells." Jack knew sour gas was deadly at very low concentrations, and didn't want to endanger the local population.
"Yeah, okay." Dieter stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"I'll set them all on timers and do the one closest to Bowden last. They should all go off together." He turned to Denis. "Okay. I've given you what you wanted. Now it's your turn. What time is the prisoner being transferred?"
The overweight man straightened slightly, shifting his weight to his other foot. "8:45"
"Alright. I'll set the charges for 8:30. That gives you 15 minutes to get in position once they realize something's happening. Our biggest problem is that the RCMP detachment is right across the highway. But, the alarm relay will automatically dispatch emergency services, and should get them out of the way as they check out the well heads. They won't be expecting anything at the prison. At exactly 8:46, you cut the power to the grid here." He pointed to another spot. "They won't be able to get in or out for two minutes while the emergency generators reset. I've got to make sure I've got to him before then."
Denis nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."
"Are you sure?" Jack's voice was hard. "We cannot allow this guy to testify. He'll bring down our whole operation in the States."
Denis glared at Jack. "I said I could, didn't I?"
Jack studied him for a minute. He still wasn't sure about this guy, but what choice did he have? "Okay, then. Good. We'd better get going." He folded the map and put it back in his bag. He had to get back to the motel, get his stuff and check out.
Xxxxx
Everything packed, he checked one last time under the bed then let the door lock behind him. He stowed the bow in the back of the truck, and swung out on the service road toward the highway. He'd have to make good time.
He'd just laid the first charge and was heading back to the main road when a truck pulled into the smaller gravel road, blocking his exit. Sh-t. It was Dave, the Conservation Officer. If I play nice, maybe he'll go away. He pulled to a stop and rolled down his window as the officer approached.
"Dave."
"Jack, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Forget something?" Dave had seen this guy with the gas company inspector earlier. It was odd that he would be back so soon. He touched his side-arm casually, as if it were just a place to rest his hand.
"Nah. I thought I saw some deer out here this afternoon. I thought I'd come back and try my luck." He smiled.
"Step out of the vehicle, please." He unsnapped his holster and stepped back from the door as he opened it from the outside.
"Sure, Dave. What's wrong?" Jack raised one arm and reached for the door handle with the other.
"I'd like to see your hunting license and inspect your weapon, please." Dave had barely finished speaking when Jack's elbow connected with his jaw. Jack spun him around and slammed him against the side of his truck, twisting Dave's arm behind his back and relieving him of his weapon. He held it to Dave's head and clicked off the safety. "Sorry, Dave. I wasn't expecting company."
"Who the f-ck do you think you are?" spluttered Dave.
"Just someone who likes to hunt alone," Jack replied, his voice low and menacing. "Now be smart and I won't have to hurt you." He yanked the other man back towards his own vehicle. "Get in." Dave hesitated. "I said, get in." Dave obeyed. With his free hand, Jack took the officer's handcuffs off his belt and snapped one end over one wrist. "Put your arm through the steering wheel."
"What are you going to do?"
"Do it!"
"Okay, okay." Dave complied, and Jack cuffed the hands together through the steering wheel. "Thanks, Dave. Sorry about this." He lowered the gun slightly, snapped the safety back on, then raised the butt and knocked Dave out cold.
He went around the other side of the vehicle and ripped out the wires connecting the radio. Then he rummaged through the glove compartment, making sure there wasn't a cell phone that Dave could reach. He took the government-issue rifle from its rack and had picked up the box of ammunition when he paused. There was a tranquilizer rifle and a box of darts as well. He grabbed those too. He loaded everything in his truck and sped away.
xxxxxxx
Denis dropped the spent end of his cigarette and ground it into the pavement with his toe.
"And why didn't you tell us about this meaning ahead of time, exactly?" Marc was pissed off. Denis was proving difficult to control, and he didn't appreciate being played.
"I told you. There wasn't time." Denis leaned back against the wall of the convenience store and sipped at his Slurpee. Marc could see how he kept his dumpy figure.
"Uh-huh. Whatever. So you say the real target is this Phil Adams guy?" Marc took another drag on his cigarette and flicked the ashes away casually. Just two guys having a smoke and shooting the sh-t.
"Yeah. Says he's a key guy in White Fist in the States. He was up here to give a talk and got hauled in for distributing hate propaganda, the dumb f-ck."
Marc sighed and rubbed his neck. It had been a long day, and it wasn't going to be over anytime soon. He could feel his headache coming back. He should pick up some more Tylenol while he was here. Stephane had taken the bottle with him, the little prick.
"Okay. So you're supposed to be at the Institution by 8:30, and cut the power at 8:46."
"Yeah. Should I not?"
"I think it's better if you go ahead with the plan."
Denis nodded and walked away. Marc stubbed out his smoke in the ashtray on the wall. He looked at his watch. Crap. It was almost seven already. He called Stephane.
"Oui, 'ello?"
"Steph, it's Marc. We've got a problem. We've got to shut our American friend down, now. He's about to wear out his welcome." He filled in his partner and they planned their attack. Marc snapped the phone shut and went back inside the store.
Xxxxx
"Almeida."
"Tony it's Jack. Where's Nina?" He was driving as fast as he could with one hand. The road was freshly graveled and his tires had a tendency to slide.
"She's over at Division this evening, Jack."
"What?" She was supposed to be helping him. Dammit. Jack preferred to deal with Nina. Tony always wanted to play by the book and things were rapidly going pear-shaped out here.
"Yeah, something came up."
"Why wasn't I told about this?" Jack demanded.
"Well, maybe if you called in more often, Jack [ass, you would hear about these things." Jack had yet to earn Tony's respect.
"Tony, I don't have time for this. Who's running point?"
"I am."
"Fine."
"What do you need?"
"I'm going to need an extraction. How soon can you get me out of here?"
Tony cradled the phone with his shoulder as he typed. "I thought you were staying until Tuesday, then flying commercial?"
"Yeah, well, that's not going to work out. How soon, Tony?"
Tony found what he was searching for. "Okay, we have a Blackhawk on a training exchange at CFB Cold Lake. I can muster the crew. Should be about an hour, hour and a half."
"Dammit, Tony, I can't wait that long." Jack found the road he was looking for and turned off.
"I'll see what I can do, Jack." 'Cause that's my job, apparently. Cleaning up your messes. Why did this guy's missions never go as planned? He always had to play the hot-shot and change things on the fly. "Where do you want the rendez-vous?"
Jack didn't bother to conceal his frustration as he gave him the coordinates. "Please, Tony, hurry. If I'm captured, it will get messy for Washington."
"Yeah." Tony hung up and dialed division to get the ball rolling.
xxxxxxxx
Jack saw the dust from the truck while it was still a few miles away. Dammit. For a supposed backwater, this place was crawling with people. He turned off and parked behind some derelict outbuildings. He got out, taking his hunting equipment with him. He still had two charges to set.
The other truck slowed as it turned onto the side road where Stephane had last seen Jack's vehicle. Jack waited until it was nice and close, then pulled back the string and let fly. Thwack. Bull's eye. He strung another as the truck started to swerve. Thwack. Two tires down. The truck skidded to a halt and Stephane jumped out, using the truck as cover. Jack ran for his truck, his tires kicking up the gravel as the Mountie pumped the truck box full of bullets.
"Sh-t! Damn! F-ck! Piss!" Stephane stared helplessly after Jack. He turned and looked at his disabled truck. "Tabernac!" He pulled out his phone. "Marc, you're not going to believe this. We're going to need a helicopter, f-ck."
xxxxxxxx