Chance Cove was a sleepy village of three hundred people. Located on the Osprey Trail, the quiet town sat one hundred twenty-five kilometers west of St. John’s. Small single-story white homes dotted the wooded shoreline. It was tranquil, with a few seagulls sitting on rooftops looking for scraps of fish and a lone osprey hunting for a morning meal.
CJ and Madman peered through slots in their hunting blind, hidden in a stand of thick balsams. Madman peered through his spotting scope at the cluster of buildings below.
“Chief, we have a blue-hulled lobster boat pulling up to the dock,” Madman said in his headset.
“Got it,” Jay said from the operations center at Maravista headquarters. “How many boats are there now?”
“That makes three.”
“We need some close-up images. Is Gia in place?”
“I’m here, Chief,” she said on the radio. “I’m approaching the village now.”
Gia rode her trail bike up to the gated entrance of the small fishing company. Chance Cove Fisheries painted in black letters on the side of a white storage building. A rusted fence surrounded the compound, but Gia didn’t see a lock on the gate.
She removed her camera from its storage bag and took several photos of the compound. Two ‘80s era Plymouth sedans sat inside the gate. Otherwise, there was no activity.
“Looks quiet from here,” Gia said. “I’ll have to come back tonight to get a better look around.”
“You have company,” CJ said from his perch on the hillside above the village. “Looks like a police squad car heading south on Route 16.”
“Roger,” Gia said as she messed her hair up. She then unzipped her lycra cycling shirt to reveal an ample view of her cleavage. She leaned against the gate bent over at the waist.
The squad car stopped, and a young police officer stepped out of the driver’s side.
“Can I help you, miss?” the officer said. “It looks like you’re in a bit of distress, eh?”
“I’m… catching my breath,” Gia said. “The ride was a bit tougher than I thought.”
CJ smiled as he watched the police officer assessing Gia. He didn’t hide his attempt to check out her tanned, muscular legs.
“Do you have a bottle of water?” Gia asked as she stood up and faced the officer. Sweat dripped down her neck and chest as she leaned against the gate to the fishing company. She stood at least four inches taller than the young police officer.
“Ah, sure, ma’am. Let me grab one out of the squad car.”
He came back and handed her the bottle, which she drank in one swallow.
“Thanks so much,” Gia said. “I appreciate your help. I’m writing a travel story about hidden gems in Maritime Canada. I thought this village was intriguing.”
“I guess so,” the officer said. “It’s a pretty quiet place.”
“Do you mind posing for a picture? It will go with my article.”
“Sure, what’s the name of the magazine?”
“North Atlantic Travel. You can find it at Barnes and Nobles or buy it online at Amazon.”
“Barnes and Nobles, eh? There’s one over in St. John’s. I go there every Sunday with my folks when we go to church.”
“Can you tell me about this company?”
“Sure, they were a local family-owned business up until two years ago. Operated by the Williams for three generations.”
“Why did they sell?”
“I’m not sure. An overseas conglomerate bought them up. Paid them a real nice amount for the buildings and the boats.”
“What kind of fish do they catch?”
“Well, that’s what’s interesting. The company never sells any fish. The boats come in and out, and there are a bunch of people working here. But they never talk to any of the locals.”
“Where do the workers live? Here in the village?”
“No, ma’am. They stay in the buildings in the compound.”
“How do you know so much about them? Do you ever go in and talk with them?”
“People in the village talk. But nobody ever goes inside the compound. We’re not invited. The neighbors keep an eye on the place, and I hear them talking at the general store and in Mabel’s Coffee Shop.”
“Is there anything else interesting in this town?” Gia asked.
“Well, that’s the thing, ma’am. We don’t get too many tourists here because this is the end of the road. In fact, you’ll have to turn around and go back south if you want to continue on the scenic highway. Folks make that mistake all the time.”
“Well, thank you, officer. Oh, what’s your name. You know, for the article.”
“Oh yeah. I’m Sheriff Pete Jones.”
“You’re the head of the local police force?” Gia said. “That’s impressive.”
“I am the police force. We haven’t had a serious crime here in ten years. Some kids broke into a house last week, and once in a while, we have a car accident. Otherwise, it’s pretty quiet. If anything serious happens, we call the Mounties.”
Gia waved as the officer drove away.
“We go in tonight,” Jay said over the radio. “Gia put Kyle’s bots in a safe spot and rendezvous with the rest of the team. CJ, did you see anybody get off the fishing boat?”
“Negative,” CJ said. “But I can only see half the boat. The warehouse roof obscures my view.”
“See if you can find a better vantage point. Get going now, so you’re in place when the tactical team goes in tonight.”
“Roger,” CJ said.
“What time is the team going in?” Madman asked.
“At 02:00,” Jay replied. “We’re waiting for the RCMP team to arrive from Gander. Can we get a drone scan every thirty minutes starting at midnight? That will tell us if anything has changed.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if the RCMP provided a Reaper drone?” Gia said. “They can stay aloft for hours.”
“The RCMP team is bringing a small one. But until they get here, Kyle’s bots will work great.”
“As long as you keep them charged between flights,” Kyle said.
At midnight, Jay watched the feed from the drone on their VR headsets. Kyle made a visual pass with night vision. The images showed the compound was quiet, and two fishing boats sat at the dock.
“Hey, CJ,” Jay said. “There are only two fishing boats now. So what happened to the third?”
“I don’t know. There were three when we changed positions. One must have left during our transition. We’ve been watching non-stop since we settled into our new hide.”
“Kyle, let’s do a pass with infrared.”
“Okay,” Kyle said, smiling. Jay could tell he enjoyed being part of the team.
The new sensors Kyle installed penetrated the wood sidings of the buildings. Jay watched the infrared images. He expected to see several heat signatures from the workers inside the houses. But the sensors showed little activity.
“I see a single light-red signature. It’s not moving and on the floor of one of the buildings.
“Look for a way to get inside.”
The drones flew low around the building. Bars covered the windows and secured the doors.
“No entry points visible,” Kyle said. “There is a ventilation shaft I can try to squeeze the main bot through.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Jay said.” If somebody’s injured, we need to know.”
“I’ll return this set of bots to Gia. Then send a single bot to go down the vent pipe. It’s going to be tricky.”
“Do you have another alternative?”
“I have one. There’s a new feature, but It’s not tested yet.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a sonic wave blaster. It emits an ultra-high frequency sound wave to break the glass. It’s not subtle, but we’ll be able to get in the building.”
“Try it. We don’t have time to mess around.”
“Okay. Remove your headset, or you’ll lose your hearing.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, sir.”
Kyle flew his microbots up against a pane-glass window on the front of the main building. He maneuvered them within inches of the window.
“Okay, here goes,” Kyle said. “Main bot, screech.”
At first, Jay didn’t hear anything, then a piercing, high-pitched noise came out from the main bot. The sound was maddening even without the headsets on. The windows fractured, but they didn’t break.
“Screech stop,” Kyle commanded. “Sorry, Jay, it didn’t work. The glass appears to be too thick.”
“That’s okay. The RCMP team is coming up the road. Pull the bots out.”
“Roger.”
Four armored tactical trucks drove through the tiny village at breakneck speeds. They didn’t slow down for intersections or use sirens. Instead, the lead track blasted through the gate, stopping in front of the main building. Tactical officers streamed out of the back of each truck. They split off into teams of two and lined up outside the doors of each building.
“We’re in place,” Mack said. “Commander, Fry, we’re ready when you are.”
The RCMP special operations commander surveyed his team, “Okay, go, go, go.”
Agents smashed the doors with battering rams. Then the teams streamed through the doors. Jay saw the flashlights shining through the windows. He watched for movement outside the buildings but didn’t see anything.
“Chief, I have movement on one of the fishing boats, CJ said. “A single person. It looks like he has a shotgun. He’s leaving the boat.”
“Commander Fry, we have a lone gunman approaching your location with a shotgun.”
“I will send one of my men out to investigate.”
“CJ, do you have a shot?”
“Yes. It’s a long one. About twelve hundred yards, but I have one.”
“Prepare to fire on my command.”
“Roger.”
Jay watched the RCMP agent leave the house closest to the dock. Finally, he ducked out of the door. He stopped, surveyed the yard then ran to take up a position behind a parked car.
The gunman saw him running and opened fire with both barrels. The first shot blasted the windshield out of the car. The second one knocked the agent to the ground as he dove for cover.
“Officer down,” Jay said. “Repeat. Gun fired, officer down. Jay saw four officers rush out the front door right into the shooter’s fire zone.
“CJ Fire! I repeat. Fire!” Jay said into the microphone.
CJ focused on the gunman’s head. Then, when the shooter stopped reloading, CJ squeezed the trigger.
The bullet smashed through the gunman’s skull.
“Target down,” Madman said. “Nice shot.”
“Thanks,” CJ said as he reloaded.
“Target neutralized, Commander Fry. But your man is down.”
“All clear inside the houses,” Mack said through the radio. “We have a situation.”
“What’s that,” Jay said.
“We found the employees. But, unfortunately, they’re all dead.”
“Not from gunshots,” Kyle said. “We would have heard them.”
“No. The victim’s throats were slit. Fresh wounds. McFarland must have killed them within the last few hours.”
“Damn, he escaped. Keep searching the compound in case he’s hiding. I’ll call the Canadian and U.S. Coast Guards and tell them to be on the lookout for that fishing boat.”
“Roger that one,” Mack said. “Gia, where are you?”
“I’m in the big storage buildings with an FBI team. The building is empty. But something isn’t right. It’s too clean.”
“Look for hidden rooms.”
“We will.”
Gia searched each building and house. She came up empty. She was sure the 3-D printers were going to be here. Her prisoner in Boston gave her all the information he knew. She was sure of that since nobody could resist her interrogation techniques. The location was accurate, but somebody knew they were coming. Who tipped them off? It couldn’t be an RCMP officer. The only one who knew the target of the assault was Commander Fry. He was with Mack the whole time. Then it occurred to her, the police officer. Perhaps he was on the payroll of the fishery owner.
“Mack,” Gia said. “Can you have one of the RCMP officers place a visit to the town’s sheriff?”
“We got him,” Mack said. “He was the gunman who came off the boat. The one CJ shot.”
“Damn, he tipped them off after he talked with me. He must have been suspicious.”
The planks on the floor of the storage building were rough two by six planks. Gia walked every inch of the building studying the floor and walls. The floors were free of debris and dust. Then she looked up. Gia saw a chain fall hanging from a beam towards the rear of the building. She pointed her flashlight at the piece of equipment and noticed recent use wore off the paint on the tip. Then Gia saw plywood between the rafters near the ceiling.
“Mack, ask the RCMP agents to bring a ladder into the storage building. A tall one capable of reaching three stories high.”
Gia waited a few minutes until the agents arrived. Mack followed.
“Look up there. I almost missed it.”
The agents placed the ladder against the side of the plywood enclosure. Then one of the officers climbed the ladder. He banged against the plywood, then called down,” It’s loose.”
He banged against the plywood again, and a sheet fell in. He pulled out his flashlight and shined it inside.
“We got it!” the officer said.
Gia climbed the ladder and pulled herself into the makeshift storage room. Inside the room stood five plastic storage barrels. The barrels had red warning stickers with the words DANGER EXPLOSIVES. Behind the barrels sat five desktop 3D printers and several bags of ceramic powder. Three partially made bomb vests were spread out on six-foot-long folding tables. Another table held wires and electronic components.
‘Everybody out,” Mack yelled from the floor. “Send the bomb squad in to inspect the whole complex and remove the explosives before anybody gets blown up.”
Gia and Mack walked outside and went behind one of the assault vehicles. “Great job Gia,” Mack said. “How did you know that compartment was there?”
“I don’t know. Female intuition?”