“I figured you came here without permission,” replied Big Al. “Otherwise I would have been notified.”

“That is why I came alone,” replied Jack.

“Where is your partner?”

“My partner is on holidays, so I have been working alone. That is why Slater has never met anyone else but me.”

“Perhaps you did come alone … or perhaps you didn’t. We took precautions to make sure we were not being followed, but even if someone did slip through our net, you should know that my men have arranged a welcoming committee. If anyone comes close to Casa Blanca, they will either be killed or join you in this room. So do not hold out any hope of rescue.”

“I have no hope of rescue because nobody knows I am here. So now that I have told you everything,” said Jack bitterly, “kill me and get it over with.”

“Everything? I think not. We have many questions to ask you. Perhaps Señor Damien will also have questions he would like asked. Now that you have introduced us, the possibility does exist that we will go into business with him. I should thank you for that!”

Jack felt too sickened to reply.

“As a matter of fact, I am sure Señor Damien will find this interesting,” said Big Al, taking out his cellphone to take a picture. “Say cheese.”

Jack momentarily wondered if he shouldn’t say something glib, or perhaps flip his middle finger up for the picture … but instead he hung his head. I’m not some tough guy in a movie … I’m just me … and I’m so scared I feel numb.

“We need more information than the reason you came here, if we are to convince others from becoming martyrs.”

“Something more?” asked Jack.

“Some men are willing to die for what they believe in … but are they also willing to sacrifice their families? Mother and father, brothers and sisters … perhaps a wife and children?”

Jack tried unsuccessfully to hide the sheer terror he felt.

“Ah, I see that last comment got a reaction.”

“I will not tell you a thing,” replied Jack, adamantly, as he resolved to replace his fear with determination.

“Yes, yes. I know what you think. Many have made the same promise. I have not had one man yet who kept it. I will tell you how it will work. First we will start off slow. Perhaps it will take seconds, perhaps minutes … perhaps hours … but the pain will cause you to talk about people you think we already know about, or could easily find out about. Organizational structures. People you work with. You will eventually start to talk.”

“What makes you think I will tell the truth?”

Big Al smiled as though talking down to a child. “My men in Canada will easily verify what you tell us. Lies will be punished by more people being killed. Once you do start to talk, it will become easier for you. Next you will give us the names of the family members of the people you work with. Soon, other names and addresses will cross your lips. Your wife’s name … your children. You know,” added Big Al, looking reflective, “I think that is when you truly become dead inside.”

“I am not married and do not have children,” replied Jack. “You will be wasting your time. Names of my colleagues can be found out easily by calling the office.”

“When you are dead, we will dump your body in the trunk of a car and park it on the Bridge of the Americas. We will let the Americans deliver you to Canada. I am certain there will be much publicity. If you do have a wife and family, I am sure there will be a big funeral they will attend. My men will be there, as well.” Big Al’s tone turned to admonishment when he added, “Did you not hear me when I said more people will die if you lie to me?”

Jack looked around the room. Depression seeped through his brain like it was acid and for the first time, genuine thoughts of how he could commit suicide crossed his mind. His brain began to swim in a fog of nausea and he willed himself to wake up from what he hoped was a nightmare.

“Nothing to say, Corporal Taggart?” asked Big Al. “Don’t worry, I am sure you will have lots to say when I return with a doctor. Then, as you say, it will be time to let the games begin.

Jack’s only response was to retch again before slipping into the abyss of unconsciousness.

chapter thirty-nine

Before leaving Casa Blanca, Big Al gave explicit orders to the other men in the house. The cocaine delivery was expected soon and he told Berto to call the men who usually unloaded the drugs and tell them there was a delay and not to come.

He made it clear he did not want anyone else to know that they had captured a Canadian policeman until they were completely finished with him. He was not risking any chance of a rescue and told them to unload the truck and stash the cocaine in the tunnel themselves.

El Pero quickly suggested that Jack should be guarded continuously and volunteered for the job. Big Al agreed.

Sanchez rolled his eyes at the other men. He knew El Pero was using Jack as an excuse to get out of the physical labour involving the drug delivery. Being Big Al’s favourite nephew has its privileges …

From his perch on the tower, Adams saw a coordinated flurry of activity. “Something is going on,” he yelled down to Rubalcava. “The two tan-coloured SUVs from the farmhouse joined the crew-cab pickup at the fruit stand. In total I count six … no, eight, guys getting out and having a confab with each other. The SUV with the snipers has also moved closer and is perched on another hill facing the fruit stand.”

“What do you make of it?” asked Rubalcava.

“I don’t know … hang on, some of the guys at the fruit stand are getting back in their vehicles again.”

“Maybe a shift change or something?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s — fuck that! They’re setting up a textbook military ambush for a crossfire situation!”

“I’m a policeman, not a soldier. What are they doing?”

“Son of a bitch, Jack!” cried Adams aloud. “Why the hell did I ever let you go in there?”

“Tell me what you see!”

“I’ll tell you what I see,” said Adams glumly. “I see professionals preparing to take someone out. They’ve driven the crew-cab truck a short distance down from the fruit stand and parked it sideways over a hill to block the road. They’ve also hidden guys with weapons on each side of the road leading up to the truck. If anyone comes along, the guys in the ditch open up on both sides, as well as from behind. If the person manages to survive and steps on the gas, they’ll be finished off when they reach the truck, where they’ll also be shot at from the front.”

“Is the ambush designed for someone heading south to the main road?”

“No … I wish it was. It would give me hope Jack is still alive. The ambush is for someone who would be heading north off the main road.”

“You think Jack —”

“Yeah, I think he was burned. Now they’re setting up an ambush in case someone tries to find him.”

“Those shots we heard …”

“I know,” replied Adams. “I don’t think they were shooting at tin cans. At this point I’m thinking he’s dead. Christ, we don’t even know what’s over those hills. Could be several houses.”

“I know these back roads a little. Maybe there is another spot we could use to try and confirm where Casa Blanca really is.”

Adams agreed and descended the tower. They both drove in silence until they returned to the main highway.

“Which way,” asked Adams harshly, angry with himself that he hadn’t somehow stopped Jack.

“Go west away from the fruit stand. I think farther down there is another road that goes north toward the border.”

“I’m sure they’ll have it guarded, as well.”

“Perhaps, but maybe we will find another hill in the vicinity to give us a different view.”