Hang anxiously waited when Pops carried in a couple of Styrofoam containers of hot Chinese food, along with napkins and plastic utensils.

“Red-circle day,” he said, setting the items down out of her reach while he turned on the propane heater. The smell of the food permeated every corner of the room.

Pops used his foot to slide the food over to Hang.

Hang ate the food rapidly while Pops sat on the floor, smiling at her. When she was finished, he stood and marked another X on the calendar.

“Two days to your next red circle,” he said, before shutting heater off and taking the food containers away as he left.

Hang stared at the calendar. This red-circle day was okay. What will I get on the next red-circle day?

For Hang, it was better that she did not know.

chapter eleven

“Assistant Commissioner Isaac will see you now, Staff.”

Quaile nodded curtly to the secretary and strode into Isaac’s office. He saw Isaac gesture to a chair and sat down.

“Good morning,” said Isaac. “Update me on this file involving travel to Costa Rica.”

“Yes, sir. Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord left yesterday. Liaisons were arranged and the Costa Rican police are accommodating. The two Russians are flying out at five o’clock this afternoon. Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord will assist with coordinating the surveillance with the police down south when the Russians land.”

“No indication of who the Russians are meeting?” asked Isaac.

“No, sir. Not at this time.”

“What about the Vietnamese? These Tran brothers.... Any indication they are going?”

“No, sir.”

“At least on this venture, it does not appear that Corporal Taggart has any personal issues—or potential vendettas,” mused Isaac.

“Last week I did his performance evaluation,” said Quaile. “I must say, it was the poorest assessment I have ever been forced to give anyone.” Quaile saw the raised eyebrow that Isaac cast in his direction. Was I wrong to ... if he doubts my judgement!

“I told you to keep an eye on him,” said Isaac, “but I expect you to treat him fairly.”

“It was fair, sir” said Quaile hurriedly. “The man is a low-life. Shows up to work in the morning with bags under his eyes. Unkempt appearance. Obviously likes to party all night. He lacks initiative to learn new things or apply himself to assignments that I have tried to give him.”

Isaac did not reply.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” asked Quaile, nervously.

Isaac stared at him for a moment before answering, “No, I am simply ensuring that he is being treated fairly.”

“Well, I certainly stand by my assessment of him. If it wasn’t for this investigation on the Russians, I would recommend his immediate transfer but with Deputy Commissioner Simonson calling me and the Commissioner’s personal interest, I decided to wait until the investigation is over.”

“Paul called you from Ottawa?” asked Isaac in surprise.

“Yes, sir,” replied Quaile, feeling somewhat self-important. “It is highly confidential. These two Russians are connected to a major international investigation. Involves corruption. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. It just sort of slipped—well, besides, I know ... I mean, obviously it is appropriate for you to know ...”

Quaile quit talking when Isaac held up his hand for him to stop. He waited and listened quietly as Isaac dialled. From snippets of conversation, Quaile realized he had been duped and his ears turned crimson.

When Isaac hung up, he turned to Quaile and said, “Your alleged call from Ottawa was bogus.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Quaile. “I gathered that from what I heard.”

“And you didn’t suspect anything?”

“Taggart was in the office when I received the call,” stammered Quaile. “How could I? I even remember seeing the area code. It was Ottawa—”

“Likely had a friend do it.”

“Sir, this is terribly embarrassing. For a member to pull a stunt like this, well—”

“I warned you to keep an eye on him,” said Isaac. “There is something, however, that we need to consider.”

“Sir?”

“It would appear that young Jack Taggart is risking his career on the fact that the Russians are worth it. It will be interesting to see the results. Keep quiet about this for now. Give it a week or two and see how all this pans out. We’ll deal with the phone call later, although I doubt we could ever prove that he was behind it.”

“Yes, sir. Like I said, if you had any doubts about my judgement in regards to his assessment, this incident just goes to highlight the fact that—”

“You can go now, Staff.”

Moustache Pete and the Fat Man were both jovial as they checked their baggage at the Delta Airlines counter in the Vancouver International Airport. Their demeanour and self-confidence changed completely just as they were entering the security check-in.

“Hey, comrades!”

Both men turned in surprise and were partially blinded by the flash of a camera. Both were too startled to say anything as the man with the camera turned and hurried away.

The following day, Jack and Laura watched through the tinted windows of a van parked on the main street in Coco Beach. With them was a plainclothes member of the Fuerza Pública. This was the name of the Costa Rican police force and the policeman assigned to work with them, Eduardo, spoke English.

“Your two men,” said Eduardo, “They are very nervous.”

It was a point that Jack and Laura had already observed. The Russians had constantly been looking around them ever since they got off the plane. After checking in to the Hotel Coco Verde, they changed into shorts and singlets went across the street and had lunch at a Cajun-style restaurant, where they sat talking in hushed voices.

The Russians were watched as they finished lunch and took the five-minute stroll down the main street that led directly to the beach. Most tourists stared at the array of gift shops and local crafts, but the Russians seemed more interested in looking at people’s faces.

When they arrived at the beach, they turned right and trudged through the cocoa-coloured sand.

Jack and Laura discreetly followed behind, using an abundance of coconut trees farther back from the beach as cover while Eduardo leap-frogged ahead on a road running parallel to the beach that was obscured by buildings and vegetation.

The Russians arrived at the end of the beach and climbed up and stood on some large rock formations jutting out into the ocean. They paused to look back down the beach and Jack was relieved that there was nobody in sight to make them more paranoid.

“These guys are really heated up,” said Jack, passing the binoculars to Eduardo, who had now abandoned the van.

“Yes, it is hot,” said Eduardo. “Canada. Mucho frio.”

“Yes, very cold in Canada,” said Jack.

“I think they are fight with each other,” said Eduardo, peering through the binoculars.

Jack looked and could see the Fat Man shaking his head and looking at Moustache Pete, who was waving his arms and gesturing in all directions. The Fat Man handed a cellphone to Moustache Pete who took it and flung it far into the ocean.

“Shit! We’re burned,” said Jack.

“Yes, sun very hot,” said Eduardo.

Following their stroll down the beach, the Russians used an Internet facility before returning to their hotel, where they spent the rest of the day drinking and lounging about the hotel pool.

Eduardo attempted to track the Russians’ Internet activity on the computer, but told Jack and Laura that it had all been deleted and therefore was unable to retrieve anything.

The next two days passed and, with the exception of another visit to the Internet facility, the Russians did little of interest. They did appear to be more relaxed and now drank copious amounts of Imperial beer while sampling the services of several different prostitutes.