chapter forty-seven
It was Friday afternoon in Vancouver when Miguel and Ramiro parked their car beside a car wash. They were immediately met by two members of Satans Wrath, who directed them into the public washroom. Neither Miguel nor Ramiro protested when they were then searched for weapons and any electronic listening devices. After that, they were taken for a ride in a van being driven by one of the bikers.
Lance strolled with Damien through Stanley Park and each man was enjoying an ice-cream cone when Lance received a message on his BlackBerry.
“Seems our two Mexicans have picked up heat today,” said Lance.
“Which means the police knew them all along,” said Damien.
“Also means Taggart is probably dead and the cops don’t give a shit if we see them or not,” replied Lance.
“Looks that way.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Tell them to bring the two taco boys over. We’ll have to take some precautions, but I want to hear what they’ve got to say. We’re also going to have to prepare them for the amount of heat that will be coming down on them. Make sure they don’t do anything stupid like popping off wives and kids.”
Twenty-five minutes later, Miguel and Ramiro met with Damien and Lance on the beach at Stanley Park. Their backs were to a seawall that rose above head level and they stood amongst a cluster of sun-bleached driftwood logs strewn on the beach.
Several members of Satans Wrath patrolled nearby to ensure none of the police who had been following would be in a position to monitor any conversation.
Damien was not a man who was shocked easily, but even his mouth hung open in stunned silence as he listened to what Miguel had to say.
“You mean to tell me you let him escape?” he said, flabbergasted.
“Not me,” Miguel hastened to say. “The men in the house.”
“Let me get this right,” said Damien. “You beat him unconscious, strip him naked, handcuff him to a pipe, torture him, threaten his family, and then …” Damien paused, rolling his eyes at Lance, before turning back to Miguel, “and then you let him escape?”
“Yes, that is what happened.”
Damien glanced at Lance who shook his head and muttered, “I can’t believe it.”
Damien turned his attention back to Miguel. “Do you just think he might have been a little pissed off?”
“A little pissed off?”
“Do you recall me telling you Taggart was … make that is, a very dangerous man and to kill him immediately?”
“Yes, but —”
“But what?” snarled Damien.
“That was not my decision. It was Big Al who made that decision.”
“And this house … let me get this correct,” said Damien facetiously, “you said was out in the desert, surrounded by professional soldiers with trained commandos inside.”
“Yes.”
“And not only did he escape, but first he shoved a gun up El Pero’s ass and shot him, then bit Big Al’s nose off, broke his arms, threw him down a shaft, and broke his neck?”
“Yes … it is very sad about Big Al. They even said from the blood Big Al coughed up, it looked like his ribs had been broken, which punctured his lungs, as well.”
“Yeah, it sounds to me like Taggart was a little pissed off,” said Lance.
Miguel saw the sarcastic look on Damien’s face and squirmed his back against the protruding end of a driftwood log before adding, “But I have a new boss, so everything is okay now. We are still interested in doing business with you.”
“Do you believe me now that Taggart is a dangerous man?” asked Damien.
“Yes, of course.”
“Think about what he did to El Pero and Big Al for asking questions about his family.”
“What do you mean?” asked Miguel.
“Could you imagine what someone like Taggart would do if you had actually harmed his family?”
“Well … I —”
“Then you brought a parade of policemen with you when you went to meet my guys at the car wash. Did it occur to you the police might wonder what part I had in Taggart being tortured and the questions asked?”
“Yes, that is unfortunate,” replied Miguel looking around, “but I am sure the police cannot hear us.”
“I don’t think you’re hearing me.”
“No, it is windy … and these birds are very noisy, but it is okay, I can still hear you.”
Damien looked at Lance, who shook his head in disbelief.
“So what can I tell my new boss?” asked Miguel. “Are you interested in going into business with us?”
Damien glanced at the seagulls squawking around them and smiled and said, “I’ll tell you what, wait here and I will confer with my colleague for a minute before giving you an answer.”
As soon as Lance and Damien walked up the stairs to the top of the seawall, Damien said, “Find out where the closest cops are.”
Lance walked over to another member of Satans Wrath and returned a moment later and said, “The young couple who are sitting on the park bench down from us.”
“The ones holding hands, looking like they’re on their honeymoon?”
“Yup. They were both in a white Ford Taurus and followed the guys all the way from the car wash to here. At least two other cars were involved, as well.”
Constables Helen Fraser and Darcy Cummings both sat on the park bench. It was Helen who first suspected their little charade wasn’t working.
“Crap, I think we’ve been burned,” she said. “Damien is pointing right at us and it looks like he’s coming over.”
“Be cool,” cautioned Darcy. “He’s probably only guessing and trying to see what our response is.”
“Hello, officers,” said Damien with a smile as he approached. “Make any busts under the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act yet today?”
“I’m sorry,” said Darcy, looking confused. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Then let me explain it more clearly and help you out,” replied Damien. “The two Mexicans you were following this morning in your white Ford Taurus … you know, the two guys who led you to Wet Willy’s Car wash?”
Neither Helen nor Darcy answered.
“Well as it turns out,” continued Damien, “they wanted to see me. I had met them for the first time yesterday when they came uninvited to one of our clubhouses. They say they want to go into business with me.”
“Uh, we don’t, uh know what you’re —”
“Forget it, Darcy, he knows,” interjected Helen.
“Thank you,” said Damien. “Now, they are both waiting for my answer as to whether we should go into business together.”
“And what business would that be?” asked Helen.
“There is some confusion on that issue. All I know is it was a business agreement that Corporal Jack Taggart of your Intelligence Unit was trying to arrange. You can ask him about it.”
“I see,” replied Helen, “but as things stand, do you think you might be going into business with them?”
Damien glanced back at the seawall and saw where Lance was standing watching him. Lance gave him a nod and Damien turned back to Helen and Darcy and said, “You’ll find the answer to that on the other side of that wall.”
“We will?” asked Helen.
As Damien turned to walk away he said, “Oh, one more thing. Tell Taggart if he wishes to remain above ground, not to pretend he belongs to our club ever again.”
Helen and Darcy looked at each other a moment, then hurried over to the seawall and looked down.
“Oh, Christ,” muttered Helen. “Call an ambulance.”