“Wait here,” said Jack, before darting over to the telephone.

Now what’s he up to? Laura spotted the Russians coming back out of the confectionary store, but it was apparent that Jack had already seen them and was moving off farther down the street.

The Russians used the pay phone again before walking back toward their apartment building. Moments later, Jack returned.

“Let’s see what we got,” he said, holding up his voice-activated tape recorder.

“You just did an illegal wiretap,” said Laura. Her comment was said more in surprise than it was to rebuke.

“I would never do that,” replied Jack. “I was just going to use the phone and accidentally forgot my recorder when I was there. Glad I remembered it.”

“Right, do you think you’re talking to Quaile or Internal? Come on, let’s see what’s on it! Hope they spoke English.”

“If they didn’t, I’ll call Natasha.”

English was spoken, but between passing cars and the muffled-sounding voice of Moustache Pete, much of the conversation was missing. Two things were heard. It was evident that a meeting was to take place in Costa Rica within the next two weeks. Moustache Pete also said, “The shipment will be as white as snow.”

“Bingo! Coke shipment,” said Laura.

“For sure. Let’s go back to the office. I’ve got the pay phone number. Let’s find out who he called.”

“Glad you’re back,” said Quaile, motioning them into his office. “Have a seat,” he said, sounding friendly.

“We just got something on the Russians,” said Jack. “I happened to overhear them at a pay phone. It sounds like they’re planning to bring a boatload of coke up through Costa Rica.”

“Oh, good,” said Quaile. “Pass it on to Drug Section. I’ve got ...”

“We haven’t reached that stage yet,” said Jack. “We need to ...”

“Don’t interrupt me,” responded Quaile with a noticeable chill to his voice. “This office is done working on degenerates. We’re stepping things up around here. I just got off the phone with Inspector Penn at Commercial Crime. They have a huge stock manipulation case on the go. He said he would be glad to get the extra help.”

“Stock manipulation,” said Jack. “That should be left up to Commercial Crime. The organized crime we target is ...”

“Considering you work on an Intelligence Unit,” said Quaile, “I’m astounded at your lack of knowledge. Perhaps you should review what organized crime is. The Canadian Intelligence Service of Canada says that it is two or more persons consorting together on a continuing basis to participate in illegal activities.”

“Yes,” replied Jack. “The Criminal Code, which is more suited for the RCMP, defines it as three or more persons. But that is not the point. I am personally familiar with real organized crime. It ...”

“Then you will appreciate that your new assignment is within our mandate! I’m sure they appreciate our offer to assist.”

“They never even asked for assistance?” said Jack, angrily. “You just decided to call and butt in?”

“These are white collar criminals. Something far more appropriate for our section to be dealing with. Not drugs or the dirty people you seem to prefer.” Quaile glowered at Jack and said, “I’m sure you pick on them because of their lower intelligence and it is no doubt easy, but those days are over. If you’re not capable of catching the smart crooks then I would suggest that you consider a transfer elsewhere.”

“Staff, please. The Russians are big fish. They’re planning to go to Costa Rica within the next two weeks. Laura and I should go.”

“Absolutely not! As of this moment, you are finished with them. Pass what you have over to Drug Section.”

“We need to do more background work first. Just two more weeks.”

“I said no! I’m done for the day. I expect to see you in this office tomorrow morning at o-eight-hundred. Now leave!”

“That son of a bitch!” Laura muttered when they returned to their own office.

Jack glanced at Laura. Swearing for her was most unusual. Her face had gone a blotchy red, which looked all the worse under the red highlights in her chestnut-coloured hair.

“Quaile wants me out of here,” said Jack. “I don’t know why, but he does. Maybe that’s what this is all about.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You heard his jab about my abilities and his suggestion I should consider a transfer elsewhere. For some reason, he’s got me in his sights.”

“Maybe because you’d rather catch bad guys than shine shoes or kiss butt.”

“Whatever, but he’s the boss. My annual assessment is also overdue. I can just imagine what that will be like.”

“What can we do?”

“We need to show him that the Russians are big time. Prove that they’re international players. Then maybe he’ll see the light of day.”

“He said not to work on them anymore.”

“I know ... and I know it’s a lot to ask, but for the next week or two, if we work on them non-stop, we’ll prove it. Only come to the office for our morning inspection and then get back out there.”

“We can’t. He won’t let us.”

Jack shook his head and said, “There are always guys like Quaile around. That’s usually the biggest challenge in catching bad guys. We just have to get him to give us more time.”

“How? He won’t listen to us.” Laura saw a smile creep across Jack’s face. “Don’t tell me you have friends in high places, like Ottawa?”

Jack looked at her and shook his head and said, “But I do have friends. I’ll see what influence I can dredge up. At this point I have nothing to lose.”

“I can’t see Quaile ever changing his mind.”

“See what happens tomorrow morning,” said Jack. “Make sure you’re in his office at eight. You won’t want to miss it.”

chapter nine

Bien’s brain didn’t want to accept the message that he got from the smuggler in Hanoi. His worst fears were realized. The smuggler’s words whirled around in his head like a voice that he couldn’t stop.

Hang died in a car accident when she was crossing the street. Most unfortunate. She is an illegal. They can’t get her body. Too many people would be arrested. It would even jeopardize the others when they arrive.

Bien had gasped as he heard the words. The smuggler had continued to speak. Traffic in America is very fast. You have caused the American family much pain. You should have taught Hang to be more careful when crossing the street. You are lucky that they are still willing to accept Linh ....

Now, Bien sat on the floor with his mother. They had plastic chairs inside their room, but Bien’s mother always preferred to sit Vietnamese-style on the floor with her legs tucked under.

Bien held the black and white photocopy of Hang and Linh standing in front of The One Pillar Pagoda. Minutes later, he put it down on the floor in front of him, afraid that his tears would damage the picture.

Bien knew that his mother had barely survived the war. She had experienced more pain and death in her life than any human should have to endure. He had believed she was incapable of crying anymore, her well of tears run dry. But now, her eyes were wet and she rocked back and forth, her arms folded across her chest and her hands resting on her shoulders.

Bien thought about Linh. He wanted to be the one to tell her, but he knew it wouldn’t be possible. She would be devastated. Mister and Missus Pops ... they too must feel the grief ... and in three weeks, when Linh arrived, they would have the unpleasant task of telling her that her sister is dead.

At seven-thirty in the morning Jack and Laura were on their way to work, unaware that at the same moment, Dúc was picking up the two Russians in front of their apartment building.

The three men went to a restaurant to discuss business over breakfast.