“Carlos?”

“No. The Diego Ramirez cartel. He’s in close competition with Carlos, though. They were at war with each other up until a couple of months ago. Looks like they settled on a truce for now. Ramirez operates out of Cali, while Carlos operates out of another city just north of Cali called Buga.”

“Were you successful in nailing Ramirez?”

“Naw. We tried to set up a sting on him. He has a weakness for redheads. Got a CI close to him and tried to sucker him out of the country so we could grab him. Didn’t work. Ramirez is smart. Cultured too. Speaks perfect English and generally pretends to be a gentleman. When it comes to cocaine distribution, Ramirez is about even with Carlos. He’s a major player. We’ve been after him for years. Same as Carlos. Both top drug lords we’d like to put behind bars.”

“What can you tell me about Carlos?”

“He’s the opposite of Ramirez. Relies on terror to stay where he is. Not that Ramirez is averse to torture and murder, but he generally tends to be more subtle and will give someone time to reflect upon how much money could be made. Carlos’s organization is more inclined to offer a smaller bribe while they stick a gun in the person’s face and pull the trigger if they refuse. That’s if Carlos is feeling nice. Otherwise he tortures them to death.”

“Nice guy.”

“Yeah. Real nice. Sally said you all called. Was it about Carlos?”

“Yes. I want to know everything about him. Particularly in regard to kidnappings.”

“I can tell you that you don’t want to be on the receiving end. His organization has snatched lots of people. Usually they’re found mutilated. The guy is a real psycho. He’s got lots of enemies. Never leaves Colombia and always travels with at least thirty bodyguards. Well connected, too. The asshole always wears a green beret. I think he does it to relate to the militant factions down there that he hires to protect his labs. We’ve tried for years to get evidence to extradite both him and Ramirez. So far, no luck.”

“A fellow up here owes Carlos money. His wife and daughter were grabbed for ransom.”

“Yeah? Well tell the guy he probably won’t be seeing them again ... at least not alive.”

“Appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this call. The guy confided in me but doesn’t want the police involved.”

“I hear ya.”

“Speaking of which, someone tried to kill me and murdered the wrong guy by mistake. Then almost murdered my partner’s — I mean my ex-partner’s — baby.”

“Jesus Christ! You all right?”

“I’m still above ground. You never mentioned my name to anyone over that ship I gave you, did you?”

“Not a soul. In the warrant I just listed you as a reliable CI. Haven’t told anyone, including my people.”

“Didn’t think so. The guy I’m after is dark-skinned but has a British accent. I figure he’s Indo.”

“British accent?”

“Yes.”

“Carlos has a brother by the name of Ray. Ramon in Spanish. I thought he was in Britain. He got his masters at Cambridge in business administration. We figured he was going to return to Colombia and help Carlos launder money.”

Jack stared at his phone for a moment, then yelled, “That’s it! Carlos knows! It is retaliation for what I told you!”

“Jack ... I’m sorry. If it is Carlos, I still don’t know how he could have found out about you.”

“It has to be! You said he’s a psychopath! Ray is here! I know it! He’s doing his brother’s bidding!”

Carlos listened to Ray gasp and choke out the words, describing where he was and what had happened. Damien heard the outrage as Carlos screamed into the phone.

Damien then spoke into the phone and said, “So, Carlos! If you want to see your brother again, you’ll let my family go. You’ve got five minutes and then the next call I get better be from my wife!” He hung up before Carlos could reply.

The minutes crawled by and everyone in the car wash remained silent as they waited. Three minutes later, the phone rang. Damien smiled with satisfaction as he answered.

“I have telled my men to move your whore and bastard girl,” said Carlos. “If you hurt my brother, he will not be able to tell you where they are.”

“Let me speak to them,” demanded Damien.

“You will not speak to me in that manner,” replied Carlos. “You understand. I have two peoples. You have one.”

“I have your lawyer,” said Damien.

Carlos laughed and then said, “I no care about him. I bought him for nothing. One hundred thousand dollars Canada. He then talk to me. He tells me all about you. Who can trust hombre like that? Kill him if you wish. He is not important.”

Damien glanced at Leitch and cursed silently, then demanded, “Let me speak with my wife. I want proof that they’re alive!”

“You will have talk soon, amigo. I have telled my men. You will get such a call in one hour.”

“Good. Then...”

“But you have now attacked my family. My ... what you call honour. One of your family is die because you make more mistake. In one hour you can tell me which one!”

“What do you mean!” Damien yelled before realizing that Carlos had hung up. He quickly redialled. No answer.

Damien looked at his men, who stood waiting for instructions. He had none.

chapter thirty-one

Jack gripped his phone and listened intently as JimBo spoke.

“If it is Carlos, he’s untouchable,” said Jim-Bo. “So will Ray be, if he makes it back to Colombia.”

“We’ve got activity,” said Laura, looking through the binoculars. “The warehouse door is opening.”

Jack looked up and saw a van pull out of the warehouse. “Gotta go, Jim-Bo,” he yelled into the phone before grabbing the binoculars from Laura.

Seconds later, Jack knew they were at the right place. “That’s the same van that was at the motel the other night,” he said.

“This place is it!” said Laura, excitedly. “Vicki and Katie ... they’ve got to be inside that warehouse!”

They watched as the van screeched to a stop beside the pickup, then the driver of the pickup ran over and got in the van. Moments later, the van raced away.

“Maybe I can figure out a way to peek inside that place,” suggested Laura. “Pretend I’m lost or something.”

“They took the lookout,” said Jack. “Something’s not right.”

“Maybe he wasn’t a lookout.”

“Maybe. We can always come back later. Follow the van. They might lead us to some other place.”

It was dusk when the van turned off the Lougheed Highway onto Pitt River Road. Laura was stuck in traffic and Jack said, “It’s crossing the Red Bridge.”

Laura found an opening and quickly started to cross the bridge spanning the Coquitlam River, then abruptly slowed down.

“Watch it!” said Jack.

“Too late,” said Laura, “we’re on the bridge. Going to have to pass them.”

Laura watched the van in her rear-view mirror as she drove past. “They’re turning off,” she said. “Small parking area by the bridge.”

Laura drove for a moment before parking on the side of the highway. “What do you figure? Meeting someone?”

“Yeah, maybe someone with a British accent,” said Jack tersely. “Come on, we’ll go on foot.”

Damien sat on the floor, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands. You can tell me which one. The words echoed in his brain. Taggart’s partner’s wife ... she had the same option. This isn’t just an idle threat!

Three-quarters of an hour passed before Damien got to his feet and spoke quietly with Whiskey Jake and Lance. Lance went outside as Damien looked at Rellik and said, “Untie him!” while gesturing to Ray. “Give him back his clothes. Wallet, passport — everything!”