Chapter 33

The next day, My girlfriends let me sleep in, but I don’t get any extra sleep anyway. At 6 in the morning, Paul knocks on my door. I sit up and look at the time before asking, “What is it?”

Paul pushes the door open and says, “You are the one that wanted to meet my contact. It is either now or never. he isn’t in town for long and will not reschedule.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll meet you in the car.”

As soon as he leaves, I open my bedroom safe and pull out some cash, then I get dressed and head out to the SUV. As we drive, Paul asks, “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to reconsider? As I said, I don’t know how much he can be trusted. He tends to work for the highest bidder, and who knows who that is?”

“Sometimes, a man has to suck it up and do what it takes, or he isn’t a man.”

“That is just it. You aren’t a man yet. I know you are as intelligent as one, but you are still 16. there is a lot left for you to experience.”

I don’t think he notices me holding back my laugh. Thankfully, he is focusing on his driving and not trying to read me. You have to admit it is funny that a man in his later thirties to early forties is telling me I need a little more experience when I am 71 and have lived an interesting life.

“Let me worry about that.”

“Another thing I don’t like is the location he chose.”

“What is wrong with it?”

“He wants to meet you at the main duck pond at Beacon Hill Park. If something went wrong, there are too many exits to cover. He is good at what he does. If he wants to kidnap you, we can’t stop it.”

“Don’t worry. I think that I can.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Forget I said it ... You’re not going to be listening in on our conversation, are you?”

“Only because this is the fiftieth time you told me. I don’t like that either. What is this all about?”

“The less you know, the better.”

“That is what I am afraid of.”

There are roads through the park, but parking is mostly restricted to outside the main park. There is a small parking lot in the centre, but it is a big park, and we are supposed to meet halfway between the exterior parking and the central parking lot. We park outside the park, south of where I am to meet this person. It is as close to the perfect spot to park as we can get. You can’t see the meeting place from here, but the vehicle has access to the main roadway and the road through the park. If I needed a getaway vehicle, this is where I would park it.

I open my door and get out, but Paul remains in the vehicle. I had assumed that he would introduce me, but apparently not. I don’t even know the guy’s name. As I walk to the bench where I am to meet him, I notice that Paul has at least a half dozen guards disguised as early morning patrons of the park. It is enough that it looks out of place, even though everybody is disguised well.

I know who the guards are because I have seen them around before. There are a couple ladies disguised as they do yoga together. A couple of the joggers are guards. There is a gentleman feeding the ducks and another reading the morning paper on another bench. Add that to the other people relaxing or exercising, and the park is rather full, which is what makes it suspicious, given that it is only 6:30 in the morning.

At the bench where I am to meet this guy is a small, unassuming black guy. I am a bit surprised. It is not that I am racist. I am, but that isn’t the reason to be surprised. There are not many blacks in this part of Canada. I was expecting the guy to be ex-special forces of some kind, and they tend to be in good shape. This guy looks more like an office worker than a fighter. One of the ways that you can pick out a spec ops person in a crowd is their posture. This guy is slouching.

I sit down beside him, and he asks, “Paul sent you?”

“Yes.”

“So, you want to know about Grace?”

“Not unless something has changed. I know the area well. As far as Grace is concerned, I want to know if they move her and where. I would also like to know where the secret entrance is to the barn’s basement is. Failing that, I am prepared to find it on my own.”

“I wouldn’t mess with the Meno Mob if I were you, kid.”

“That is not what we are here to talk about.”

“What are we talking about?”

“I have another job, but first, I need to know if there is a reason you can’t work in the south?”

“Why are you asking about the south?”

“You aren’t a Canadian. You’re an American. Most people can’t tell a northwestern accent from a western Canadian accent, but I can. Your inflection is off. It is mostly Canadian, but as I already said, you are not a Canadian, so your northwestern accent is a fake. You’re not military trained, but you found Grace, so you are good at what you do. Your undercover work is better than CIA or FBI. You are an independent who broke away from some other organization and likely still work for them on occasion. There is a chance that you are from the northeast, but there are vernacular habits and inflections from the region that are difficult to lose. You are more likely from the south.”

“Paul said that you were too smart for your own good. I won’t confirm or deny what you said, but yes, I can work in the south. Why?”

“You just confirmed everything I said. As for the job, I need some pirates. The closest place there are pirates of any quantity is Latin America.”

“What do you need pirates for?”

“Piracy, of course. Have you heard about the French, Spanish and American fishermen that have been poaching Canadian waters?”

“Even in the northern interior, it is difficult not to hear about it. It is one of the reasons that anybody with any sense has stopped investing in fish and started investing in oil, coal and diamonds.”

“I am willing to pay to have any fishing vessel within 100 miles of Canadian waters taken care of. The pirates can keep the ships and their catch. Atlantic cod is at a premium, and that alone should make the capture worth it.”

“And what are you willing to pay for such services?”

As I open my briefcase so he can’t see the contents and pull out five bundles of 100 USD bills, I say, “I don’t care how you do it.

“As for money, I pay you a commission of fifty grand now. Every time an American, French or Spanish fishing vessel is sunk or captured within 100 miles of our border, I give you ten grand more. Payable in gold, diamonds, stocks, Canadian or American currency. Your choice. You pay the pirates from that.”

I know I am lowballing it, but I need him to believe he is swindling me if I’m to get the concessions I want. It is all just part of the negotiations.

“Those numbers aren’t reasonable. Even so, you are likely going to start a war over this. Are you sure that is what you want?”

“It will likely only be an international incident, and there will be a threat of war, which is good for the economy. I doubt there will actually be a war.”

This is true. The French and Spanish are known to be belligerent to countries they feel like they can bully. Since Canada is acting like a sissy, they do not feel the need to deal with their fishermen. If there were a threat of war, it would be a different situation entirely. Unlike in 2010 and on, it still means something to be a member of the Commonwealth. If you declare war on one of us, you declare war on all of us. Neither France nor Spain is foolish enough to declare war on half the world.

The US is a different story. This story predates Canada. Canada, or a colony that later became part of Canada, went to war or similar conflict with the US 12 times and never lost. The first time was in 1775. Unlike what is taught in American history classes, the American war of independence was more like WW2 in that it was a series of wars and not just a single war. Three of the wars fought within the American War of Independence were pretty much forgotten as soon as they ended.

The Continental Army felt it wasn’t enough to win their independence. They wanted to remove the British from the continent. They started separate wars against three of the northern colonies. If you look through history, you will note that the British rarely had enough respect for Canada to defend it adequately. The US regulars ended up fighting farmers with pitchforks and natives with tomahawks. You guessed it; they were sent packing all three times. The locals didn’t want any part of a rebellion. The Americans had designs on all of the colonies, but when Quebec sent them packing, they realized how futile it was.

One of my favourite periods in history is the North American War of 1812. It started in 1812, was mostly fought in 1813, officially ended in 1814, and the last battle was fought in 1815. Unfortunately, Britain set a bad precedent. The purpose of the war was to capture ALL British colonies. Since the Americans didn’t meet any of their objectives and the British Colonies’ only objective was to survive. They achieved that, and by that logic, the Canadians won the war.

In the southern US, they are taught that they won the war simply because they won the Battle of New Orleans after the war had ended. Ironically, they did the British a favour. The Irish conscripts were left in New Orleans after the war because the British didn’t want the expense of transporting them. By killing the Irish conscripts, the Americans spared Brits the expense.