Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 59 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

chapter thirty-six

Laura found a bush-filled entrance to a farmer’s field, pulled in, and parked the car. The fear on the Russians’ faces showed that they were now acutely aware of their new surroundings.

Fat Man was sweating profusely and his lips had taken on a bluish hue. He looked at Jack and gasped, “Please ... my chest ... the pain, it has gone to my neck, shoulder ... arm. I think I am having ...” He stopped talking and started panting heavily.

Don’t die on me now, you fat bastard!

Jack saw the concern flicker across Laura’s face. Not now, Laura! You’re supposed to act like you want them dead!

Laura looked at Jack and said, “I think he’s—”

“Yeah!” said Jack loudly, interrupting her. “Fat Man looks like he is about to have a heart attack. Good! One less cell needed at Guantanamo.” Jack’s voice returned to a normal level and he added, “He probably wouldn’t survive the interrogations anyway. As long as Petya here is healthy, who cares?”

Laura momentarily turned away from the Russians. Oh, man—

“Cut to the chase,” said Jack. “What is this nonsense about two girls?”

Moustache Pete’s eyes betrayed his fear as they flickered between the Fat Man and Jack. “The business we are in,” said Moustache Pete quickly, “it is only importing women to work in hotels. Illegal as far as immigration goes, but nothing to do with terrorism.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jack. “What does the hotel business have to do with Puget Sound and meeting with al-Qaeda?”

“I did not know the Arab was connected to al-Qaeda. He told us he wanted some young women to work in a hotel. Our interest in navigational charts was purely a matter of interest as to where we could bring people in.”

“So this Arab killed some girl?”

“No! Not him. Someone who lives here, in Vancouver. We heard, through a business associate here, that he sold two young girls to a monster of a man who killed one of the girls and is holding the other girl in chains. They are sisters. One of them, her body has recently been found by the police.”

“I would have heard of it,” said Laura.

“No, my mistake,” muttered Moustache Pete. “It is not Vancouver police. It is the RCMP in Surrey. Please check, you will see that I am telling the truth.”

“This story,” said Jack, “it will not take us long to find out the truth. If you are lying, it will go very hard on you.”

“We are not lying. If we prove this, will you let us go?”

“Of course I would, if it was true. It would still take time to sort things out. I won’t be able to stop my office from arresting you, but you’ll have about a fourteen-hour head start.”

“We would still be arrested?”

“I can’t guarantee anything that the Americans would ... or would not do. You know how they operate. The secret prisons they have all over the world. Still, if you are telling the truth, you would not be detained forever.” He pointed his finger at the Fat Man and added, “So you, fat boy, if you are lying to us, you may as well continue with your heart attack. If you’re not lying ... then relax, because I will let you go.”

“We are not lying,” panted the Fat Man.

“Then you have nothing to fear from the two of us,” said Jack. “I can assure you that I will let you go tonight. You might want to take the opportunity to try and find a place to hide until your story is checked out by my friends down south. Although hiding may prove difficult. The Americans have most of the holiday spots on the globe well covered.”

“We are telling you the truth,” said Moustache Pete.

Jack glanced at his watch and looked at Laura and said, “I never did confirm with my friends waiting at the border that we picked them up. We can delay for a little while. I can’t see why these two would make up such an absurd story. They’re cuffed and can’t escape. If they’re lying, I’ll definitely make sure that their interrogators are told about it. It would cost them dearly, they must know that.”

“Yes, we would not lie about such a thing,” said Moustache Pete. “It will be easy for you to discover we are telling the truth. This place, where the monster lives, it is even close to the border.”

“We don’t have anything to lose,” said Jack, looking at Laura. “Let’s just sit quietly for a moment and let me figure out all the angles. If they are being truthful, I will let them go.”

A few minutes passed and the natural colour returned to Fat Man’s face and his breathing became normal. Laura caught the slight nod of Jack’s head and she resumed her role. “Come on,” she said, looking at Jack. “Let’s drive them to the border. This is bull.”

The Fat Man gasped.

Jack held up his hand as if to stop Laura from talking and looked at Moustache Pete and asked, “What is the name of your alleged business associate?”

“Dúc,” he replied immediately. “He owns a massage parlour in Surrey called the Orient Pleasure. He has two brothers. They own another massage parlour in Vancouver called The Asian Touch.”

“I have heard of that place,” said Laura. “We busted it yesterday.”

“See!” said Moustache Pete, giving a worried look at the Fat Man who was beginning to take shallow breaths again. “We are telling the truth.”

“Yeah, right,” said Laura. “It was in the news. You probably read about it.”

“No! I did not—well, I did, but that has nothing to do with the two young sisters. Call the police in Surrey. You will see.”

“Why don’t you do it, sweetie?” said Jack. “What if he is telling the truth?”

“Yeah, I guess that won’t hurt,” she grumbled, getting out of the car.

The men watched intently as Laura got out and walked around the car with her cellphone at her ear. She got back inside and said, “A girl’s body was found. Unidentified. There is nothing about any sister.”

“That is her,” said Moustache Pete. “She is Vietnamese, right?”

“I was told Asian,” said Laura.

“See? I am right. The police do not know about the sister, but I do.”

Laura glanced at Jack and said, “Maybe they are telling the truth. Could your office be wrong about these guys?”

“CSIS ... make a mistake? I can’t see that happening. If we did, it was because of something the Americans told us.” Jack saw the glare that Laura gave him. Sorry ... getting into my role too much ...

Jack pretended to cough and said, “There is no doubt about the Arab they met. He was confirmed by multiple independent sources—”

“Not about the Arabs, about these two? You told me you had two bona fide terrorists here!”

“Well,” Jack paused, “the investigation is still continuing, but their contacts and affiliation with the Arab was confirmed. This could still be a delay tactic,” he said, glancing suspiciously at the men in the back seat. “Perhaps trying to put us off while the police run around playing footsy with this Dúc character. Maybe trying to find some house with a kidnapped girl that may not even exist.”

“No, it does exist!” said Moustache Pete.

Laura glared at him.“I suppose you are going to tell us that we just have to go ask Dúc and he’ll tell us where she is,” said Laura.

“I know the house,” said Moustache Pete. “We were there once and waited in the car while Dúc went inside.”

“What’s the address,” Jack snapped at him. “Quick!”

“I ... I do not know.”

“It’s all bull,” said Laura.

“No. It is no bull,” replied Moustache Pete. “I know it to see it, but I just don’t know the address.”

“How do we get to it?” asked Jack.

“You keep driving toward the border on Highway 99, but you take the last exit. It is 8^th Avenue. You turn right. From there, I can take you to the house.”

“What street is it on?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know. If you drive, I will recognize it.”

Twenty minutes later, Laura turned on 8^th Avenue as directed.

“Go straight,” said Moustache Pete, “but slow down—I need to look.”

Moments later he argued briefly with Fat Man before speaking English and saying, “Yes, turn right here.”

“It’s on this street?” asked Laura.

“No, farther yet. Keep driving. I remember it is on the side of a hill.”

“We’re in White Rock,” commented Laura.

“Please ... keep driving. I think you turn here.”

Jack felt the tension in his body increase with every turn the car made. He realized he was holding his breath and wiped the sweat off the palms of his hands on his pants.

“No, this is wrong,” said Moustache Pete. “Go back. Maybe it was the next street ....”

Jack glanced at Laura and saw that her body was rigid and the frustration was evident in her face as she slammed on the brakes to turn around.

Bien felt stunned as he blinked his eyes. He felt the painful mark on his forehead as Pops and Dúc roared with laughter.

He looked up at Pops who pointed the CO₂ pistol at him again and said, “Pop,” before firing another pellet. Bien cringed and felt the pellet ricochet off the side of his head.

“You shouldn’t flinch,” yelled Pops. “That is how Hang lost her eye!”

Bien screamed out in rage and leapt forward, clawing at the air like a madman as Pops stepped back out of reach.

“How ferocious,” said Pops, “I should take you to a taxidermist after and have you stuffed. You would look good standing near my fireplace.” He smiled and said, “Maybe now you know why I am called Pops!” Again he said, “Pop,” and fired another pellet, striking Bien on the back of his hand as he covered his face.

Bien cringed but he lowered his hands as he heard Pops moving away.

Pops tossed the pistol into a box and looked at Bien and said, “You are fortunate that you arrived today.” He pointed at a calendar and said, “It is a red-circle day. A day of surprises for Linh. Actually,” he said, glancing at Dúc, “a day of surprises for all of us.”

“Please,” begged Bien.

Pops waved his hand, gesturing for Bien to be silent.

“Unfortunately,” continued Pops, “because of your arrival, all her surprises will be today. You will watch. If you do not watch ...,” Pops gestured to the steak knife on the floor, “I will start by cutting off your daughter’s ears ... then other parts of her body.”

Bien watched in horror and revulsion as Pops slowly took off his clothes, flexing his muscles as he did so.

Dúc stood with his back to the wall, watching intently.

“Please, sir, please don’t,” begged Bien.

“Keep asking politely,” said Pops. “If you ask enough, maybe you will convince me to stop. But if I see you looking away—if you even blink, I will toss you one piece of your daughter each time.”

Linh screamed as Pops grabbed her. He shook her by the arm and said, “And you, my little fighter. You will do everything I say or I will cut your father to pieces before your eyes!”

chapter thirty-seven

“That’s it!” said Moustache Pete, gesturing with his head toward a house that Laura was driving past. “The place with the hedge and the driveway that goes to the rear.”

“You are certain?” asked Jack. “The place we are driving past now—the house in darkness?”

“Yes,” both men said from the back seat.

“Maybe he’s not home from work yet,” suggested Laura.

“Maybe,” replied Jack. “Turn around and park a few houses down on the opposite side. Time for you and me to have a private talk.”

Moments later, Jack and Laura stood outside the car. “Now what?” she asked.

“I’d like to scoop a licence plate or something. Figure out who really lives here. With what this guy has done, if it’s him, he’ll definitely have a history.”

“Like setting pets on fire when he was a kid,” said Laura with disgust.

“If that is the case,” continued Jack, “I’ll call Connie and she can send in the troops and we’ll sit back with these two. If it’s confirmed, we’ll let them go as promised.”

“How do you explain that we found this place?” asked Laura, gesturing with her thumb at the two Russians. “If anyone finds out what we did with these two, we’re finished. Not to mention that a judge will probably rule that we put the administration of justice into disrepute and toss the evidence.”

“As far as I’m concerned, these two fine gentlemen in the back of the car are our informants. There is no need to get into how they were ... cultivated.”

Laura nodded. “And as informants, we keep their identity secret.”

“It’s not like I expect them to stay once we release them anyway. They’ll be running for the airport.”

Laura looked toward the house and said, “Do you think they’re telling the truth?”

Jack looked up at the night sky as the full moon momentarily shone through a break in the clouds. That’s eerie ...

He glanced at Laura and said, “Yeah, I think they’re telling the truth. Looks like the driveway might lead to a garage out back. I’m going to grab my flashlight and picks out of the trunk.”

“You’re not going inside the—”

“No. I’ll check the mailbox, if there is one, and then the garage for a plate. If I’m lucky, the garage will have a window. If it doesn’t, or I can’t see in, I’ll pick the lock if there’s no alarm system.”

Laura opened the trunk and Jack reached for his briefcase, removing a penlight flashlight and a small leather case from it and put them in his pocket. He looked at her and said, “If there aren’t any cars, I’ll come back and we’ll wait here. Tap the horn twice if a car arrives and I’ll take off through the back. I’ll have my phone, but I’m shutting it off.”

“Good luck.”

Jack casually sauntered down the sidewalk while glancing at neighbouring houses. The ones with lights on made it easy to see that nobody was looking out. He turned into the driveway and walked toward the house. He could see a slot in the front door for mail. So much for that idea ...

He followed the driveway to the rear and peeked around the corner at the back of the house. The back porch light was on, as well as a light from inside the kitchen. Another light shone out from the ground behind some bushes close to his feet. It came from a sunken window well and he tried to peer inside, but blinds blocked his view.

The garage extended out on the far side of the back door. The overhead garage door faced him, but he could not see the far side of the garage or the rear, where he hoped to find a window to look in—or a door where he could pick the lock unobserved.

He quickly surveyed the situation. The light from the porch did not extend to the back fence, where an ample supply of bushes would provide cover.

He crept back from the house and slowly made his way across the backyard, crouching to keep his silhouette even with the bushes around him. He was at the midpoint in the yard when he realized that the back door to the house was wide open. His pulse quickened as he quickly knelt beside a shrub.

Bushes rustled close to him and his body tensed before realizing that it was just the wind. Slowly, he turned his head and scanned the backyard again. The house backed onto a lane, but the only access was a small gate beside a wooden structure that held garbage cans. He did not see anyone and waited. With the wind picking up, and the hint of more rain to come, it did not make sense that someone would leave the back door of a house open for long.

Moments later, a car drove slowly down the lane behind him. He held his breath as the headlights flickered past the cracks between the board fence behind him, hoping that the headlights would not reveal his silhouette to anyone who might look out from the house.

Without warning, the small gate to the lane smashed back against the fence.

Jack instinctively reached for the butt of his 9 mm that stuck from the holster on the back of his hip. He waited, unaware that his mouth was open as his body went into survival mode ... acutely listening for any sound of danger.

The gate smashed a second time and Jack realized it too, had been left open and was simply at the mercy of the wind.

He took out his phone and used his jacket to shield the light as he jabbed the numbers. The sound of the wind covered the tone that each number emitted as he dialled.

Laura took the call on her cell.

“It’s me,” whispered Jack. “I’m hiding in the backyard behind some bushes—the back door to the house is open ... but I don’t see anyone around. Lights on in the kitchen and basement. I’m going to wait a few minutes. A gate to the lane was also left open. Maybe the owner popped over to the neighbour’s place or something. Would be just my luck to have him come back as I’m leaving.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Just hang tough where you are, this might take awhile. If a car comes, lay on the horn a couple of times and I’ll leave through the back gate.”

“Got it.”

“I’m shutting my phone off. See ya later.”

The longer Jack waited, the more his curiosity got to him. What the hell, I’m not a cat ...

He got to his feet and crept toward the gate in the lane and quietly slid the bolt to latch it shut. A hole cut into the wood would still allow a hand to reach through and open it, but he hoped the noise would alert him first.

He stood erect and walked straight toward the back door. If someone comes out I’ll say I was walking past in the lane—noticed the door was left open and was coming to close it like a good Samaritan.

As he neared, he saw a smear on the door. Muddy hand print ... He stepped closer, his eyes looking past the door and into the foyer behind. A couple steps up to the kitchen—more steps leading down to the basement.

He took another look at the door. That’s not mud! He looked at the bloody handprint and glanced down at the linoleum floor. Bright red drops of blood leading to the basement stairs—not even congealed yet!

The muffled sound of a girl’s scream came up the basement staircase.

Jack jerked his pistol from the holster and raced inside.

chapter thirty-eight

Laura accepted the next call on her cellphone and recognized her husband’s voice.

“What are you up to?” Elvis asked. “Want me to put dinner on the stove?”

“Oh, hello,” said Laura, as she sat sideways in the seat, watching the two Russians, who were listening closely to her conversation. “Yes, I’m just out with that good-lookin’ fiancé of mine. We’re shopping.”

“I see,” replied Elvis, who was not unaccustomed to the coded phone conversations he had with his wife when she was working undercover. “Bad time to chat?”

“That sounds nice,” replied Laura. “Tomorrow night would be fine for dinner.”

“Maybe I’ll call Natasha and see if she wants to join me for dinner tonight,” Elvis chuckled. “I bet she’s available.”

Laura smiled and hung up.

Jack ran down the basement stairs while fumbling to turn on his phone. The first room he entered contained weight-lifting equipment and he followed the sound of a man’s laughter and a girl crying to the next room.

He saw a small panelled door that was partially open in the wall and quickly pushed the redial button on his phone.

Busy signal! Not now, Laura!

Another scream caused him to yank open the passage door and crouch down to enter. The sound of the man’s laughter abruptly stopped and Jack knew he had been heard. His finger tightened on the trigger and he pointed his gun in front of him as he scrambled through.

The first thing Jack saw was a naked man staring at him. The man’s arm muscles bulged as he gripped a naked young girl by her hair. The girl had a length of chain wrapped around her ankle.

Jack started to rise out of the passageway and screamed, “Police! Don’t—”

A flicker of movement out of the corner of Jack’s eye caused him to lurch to one side, but he wasn’t fast enough. His wrist went numb instantly and his gun clamoured to the floor.

Dúc!

Jack ducked as a second swing of the bat breezed through the hair on the top of his head.

Jack stared at Dúc’s face and saw Bien chained to the floor in the background.

“You!” shouted Dúc.“I know you!” he snarled. His eyebrows furled over his eyes in a look of hate and he stepped forward, swinging the bat with both hands as Jack leaped farther back.

“Behind you!” shouted Bien. “Pops!”

Jack turned and placed a side kick at Pops’s naked midriff, causing him to let out a loud grunt and stumble back. Dúc reached for the gun on the floor, but Jack stepped forward to kick him in the face. Dúc saw it coming and stepped back, putting both hands back on the bat and raising it over his head.

Jack raised his left arm to try to block Dúc’s forearms, while pulling his right fist back to deliver a blow.

Bien’s second cry of warning coincided with a vicelike grip as Pops wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist, lifting him off the floor.

Jack gasped for air as he felt the muscular arms tighten under his rib cage. He instinctively used the heel of his shoe to kick back and scraped down the front of Pops’s shin.

“Get his gun!” yelled Pops.

Dúc stepped forward to pick it up but Jack gave a well-aimed kick and sent the gun flying through the passageway. Jack writhed and twisted his body. He knew that he could not free himself before Dúc reached the gun.

By the smile that appeared on Dúc’s face, he knew it, too.

“Okay, you got me,” said Jack, letting his body go limp. Pops lowered Jack’s feet to the floor but did not relent on the pressure around his waist.

“Hurry up,” said Pops. “Get his gun.”

Dúc bent to go out the door and Jack yelled, “Hey, duck face!”

Dúc looked up just as Jack spit on his face.

An unintelligible sound emitted from Dúc’s throat and he immediately stepped forward and cocked his arm to punch Jack in the face.

“No! Get his—”

Pops’s words were drowned out by Dúc’s vomit-sounding wretch as Jack kicked him in the groin, partially lifting him off the floor.

A gurgling rumble continued to emit from Dúc’s throat and he doubled over in pain. Jack grabbed Dúc by his hair, jerking his head upright, while simultaneously landing a karate chop to the back of his neck with his other hand.

Dúc’s neck broke the first time, but Jack still managed to whip his victim’s head back and deliver a second blow before Pops managed to twist him away.

“Get up!” screamed Pops. “Get up!” he yelled, before realizing that Dúc would never move again.

Jack reached behind his head with both hands in an attempt to grip Pops’s head and gouge out his eyes with his thumbs, but discovered that the numbness had gone from his wrist and the sharp pain that replaced it told him that Dúc’s swing with the bat had broken a bone.

Pops spun around fast, bashing the side of Jack’s head against the wall, before crashing to the floor on top of him and delivering a violent punch to Jack’s midriff.

The air exploded out of Jack’s mouth like a burst balloon. For a few seconds he was helpless as he lay sprawled on his back, trying to gulp in air as Pops sat on top of him.

Jack was only partially aware of Linh’s scream as she crashed to the floor when Pops yanked on the chain. Seconds later he felt a loop of chain around his neck.

Jack tried to claw at Pops’s face with his good hand, but Pops leaned back and positioned his knee, pressing Jack’s arm to the floor before putting a hand on Jack’s forehead, pushing his head to the floor while sitting upright and yanking on the chain around Jack’s neck with his other hand.

Linh screamed and came flailing at Pops with both hands. He dropped the chain and punched her in the temple. She fell in a dazed clump to the floor.

Pops picked up the chain again, yanking it tighter around Jack’s throat.

Jack felt the darkness swooning in on him. His struggle was becoming weaker.

Their eyes met and Pops smiled down at him, before leaning back and reefing harder on the chain while Jack’s legs kicked involuntarily as his body craved for air.

Pops position now gave Jack a little more movement with his good hand.

Got ya!

Laura answered her cellphone again.

“I could use some help,” yelled Jack. “I found Linh.”

“You what? Where? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not. Get in here! Leave the guys in the car and go around back of the house. The door’s open. Just follow the noise!”

“What noise?” asked Laura, while stepping out of the car onto the quiet street.

“It sounds like this,” said Jack.

Laura heard a long, high-pitched scream over her phone and Jack said, “It’s the sound of a guy getting his nuts crushed. Want to hear it again? Listen ...”

Moments later, Laura saw Jack’s gun and picked it up as she scrambled through the passageway door with a gun in each hand.

“Who are you? Two-gun gringo?” asked Jack, as she entered the room.

Laura saw a naked man on his hands and knees as Jack knelt beside him with one hand clenching the man’s scrotum. In front of her, Dúc lay motionless on the floor while Bien and Linh, both with chains on their ankles, clung to each other in the middle of the room.

“Bien? What ... Jack? What is going on?” asked Laura.

Jack wrenched his hand tightly, leaving Pops screaming and writhing on the floor behind him, before walking over to retrieve his gun from Laura.

Jack pointed his gun at Pops, as Laura bent over to look at Dúc.

“I broke his neck,” said Jack, with a nod of his head toward Dúc. “He’s either dead or paralyzed. He’s not talking so ...”

Laura put her fingers on Dúc’s neck. After a couple of seconds she shook her head and said, “He won’t be talking again. Mind telling me what the heck just happened?”

Jack quickly told Laura what had happened.

Laura pointed at Dúc and said, “They didn’t teach that at the Academy.”

“No,” said Jack. “That was extracurricular. Bush Survival 101.”

“Bush Survival?”

“Learned how to wring a duck’s neck,” said Jack, before turning to Bien, who was holding Linh. She was sobbing in his arms. “How is she doing? That was quite a punch.”

“She says she is okay,” sobbed Bien.

“Mind telling us how you got to be here?” Jack asked.

Bien used his hand to wipe the tears from his face. In short, halting sentences, he told them of the invitation he had received to the restaurant and what led up to him finding Linh.

Bien pointed at Pops’s clothes piled on the floor and said, “The key to the padlock on my ankle is in his pants.

Jack glanced at Laura and said, “Do you mind? My wrist hurts ... and maybe Pops will think I can’t shoot with my other hand and try to escape.”

Pops glared up at Jack from where he lay on the floor.

Laura holstered her gun and quickly freed Bien. She tried to open Linh’s padlock but the key did not fit.

“Where is it?” demanded Laura, pointing an angry finger at Pops. “The key! Where is it?”

“Fuck you,” replied Pops.

“I’ll cover him,” Jack whispered to Laura. “Go back to the car and take the cuffs off the Russians. Kick them out and tell them they’ve got twenty minutes to get out of the area. That should give them enough time to find a payphone and call a cab.” He gave a nod of his head toward Pops and said, “Once he’s cuffed, I’ll pick the lock on Linh’s ankle.”

“That sounds good except for one thing,” said Laura, “and I’ll take care of that right now!” She looked at Bien and said, “Take Linh and move to the far side of the room.”

As Bien and Linh complied, Laura walked over to Pops and said, “Get up on your hands and knees! Now!”

Pops slowly obeyed.

“Crawl,” ordered Laura. “Hands and knees only. Go over to the other side of the room.”

“Fuck you.”

Jack hid a smile when Laura placed the barrel of her gun between his buttocks and cocked the hammer back.

“You see him, eh, Jack?” she said. “He tried to grab my gun and escape.”

Pops quickly crawled across the floor to the chain that had held Bien moments before.

“Now,” Laura demanded. “Put that chain on your own ankle. Tight! Then padlock it!”

Pops did as ordered before glaring up at her.

“So how does it feel?” asked Laura. “You better get used to it. You’ll be spending the rest of your life in a cell.”

“Fuck you.”

“You pathetic piece of drivel,” said Laura. “You don’t even have the brains to form a proper sentence.”

“Fuck you!” yelled Pops again in rage.

Laura looked at Jack and said, “I’ll go get the cuffs out of the car. If you’re up to it, I think you are probably safe to take a crack at the padlock while I’m gone.”

“I’m up to it. It’s my wrist that’s broken, not my fingers. Hang on a second,” said Jack, as he walked over to a large box in the corner. He looked in the box and saw some box cutters, pliers, a CO₂ pistol, candles, matches, an electric cattle prod, and an assortment of girls’ clothing. That son of a bitch! I want to kill him so bad ...

Laura also looked inside. “Oh, man,” she muttered. “I better get the cuffs. If I stay here, I will shoot him.”

Jack reached in and pulled out a jacket to give to Linh. “Hurry back, we’ve got some things to discuss.”

Bien weakly pointed at the jacket and started to cry while Linh buried her face in his neck. Laura paused and glanced at Pops, who was now smiling. She hurried to the car.

Moments later, Laura returned, dangling a set of handcuffs in front of her. “It’s done,” she said. “I left yours in the glove box.”

“Our terrorists?” whispered Jack.

“Took off on the run. How you making out?”

“Doing okay,” said Jack, as the lock sprung open and he helped Linh to remove the chain from her ankle. When she was free, she immediately turned to wrap her arms around Bien’s neck once more as he kneeled beside her.

“Cuff him,” said Jack. “I’ll cover.”

Laura ordered Pops to lay face down on the floor while she cuffed him with his hands behind his back. She was about to use the key to release the padlock and take the chain off his ankle when Jack said, “That can wait a minute. Come here, we should talk about some things first.”

Jack and Laura stood by the passage door and turned their backs so they could talk in private.

“We’ve got to get Linh to a hospital,” whispered Jack.

“While you were getting the cuffs, Bien spoke with her. She says she wasn’t sexually abused, but even if she wasn’t, she’s still traumatized.”

“So let’s call an ambulance and bring in the troops.”

“For sure, but now there is no need to make up our informant story. Let’s just say that we did follow Dúc and he led us here. We’ll say we didn’t realize Bien was with him until—”

“No!” screamed Pops in a high-pitched voice.

Jack spun around and saw Bien running toward Pops with a knife in his hand.

“Bien, no!” yelled Jack, as he leaped, tackling Bien around the legs and sending him crashing to the floor.

By the sound of Pops’s anguished squeal, Jack knew that he was too late as he grabbed Bien by the back of his shirt and flung him off.

Pops looked up from the floor, his eyes wide with fright as he lay on his side.

“He stabbed me!” Pops said, as his eyes became fixated on the knife handle protruding from the side of his chest—and the deep, dark-coloured pool of blood spilling out onto the floor.