Above Ground. Don Easton

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Above Ground - Don Easton A Jack Taggart Mystery

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are on their way to a nervous breakdown. You should take some time off.”

       Boatloads of cocaine due to arrive any day. Lance now president of the west-side chapter. A debt to be repaid to Damien. A family destroyed who shared my name. Take a holiday! Don’t I wish!

      “I’m fine! If you want to worry about someone, worry about Charlie. That’s the little guy who needs help.”

      “No need to snap at me.”

      Jack stared at her and then said, “I’m sorry.”

      “It’s okay. But it proves my point. You are under a lot of stress.”

      Jack sighed. “I know you’re right. I’ll watch myself, but there is too much happening right now for me to take a break. There is nothing going on that I can’t handle. I still have control. You’ve taught me that.”

      Natasha smiled and said, “The advice I once gave you about post-traumatic stress was simplified. It’s more complicated than that.”

      “Duly noted,” said Jack. “I’d love to stay and talk, but I have to pick up Danny. We’re meeting a source this morning. See if he can help shed some light on things.”

      Natasha followed him to the door, where she gave him a passionate kiss and said, “Just remember. I love you. I also know you’re not made out of iron. I wouldn’t love you if you were. I love you because you are human, and all humans have a breaking point. Just look after yourself, if not for you, then for my sake, will you?”

      Jack kissed her again and then left.

      Staff Sergeant Legg walked into Isaac’s office and got right to the point. “He went straight to his sister’s place. Everything seems legit.”

      “He may have suspected that he was being followed,” said Isaac.

      “Always possible. Do you want us to bring him in for interrogation and see if we can wrap it up, one way or the other? Shouldn’t take long to corroborate when and where he went in Mexico.”

      “Not yet. Get your ducks in line first. Obtain photos of him and his wife and send them to the Mexican authorities. They can check with the local police where Bishop was staying. The place is so small that any grin-gos are bound to stand out.”

      “I doubt that there are more than a couple of policemen there to show pictures to,” said Legg.

      “Then there’s also not much of a population base. Shouldn’t take them long. If Taggart was there, we’ll find out soon enough.”

      Jack and Danny crossed a small knoll in the cemetery and saw Lance waiting at the usual location.

      “Any heat over the labs?” asked Jack.

      “Not a bit. Too Mickey Mouse to worry about. Besides, we still have two labs going full tilt and it’s a good excuse to jack the price way up.”

      “Anything on the Taggart murder?” asked Jack.

      Lance shook his head. “Don’t think it was connected. The dumb schmucks running the labs are too stupid to keep something like that quiet. We would have heard.”

      “What about the cargo ship taken down in San Diego?” asked Danny.

      “Not a peep about it. Everyone thinks it was just a casualty from the war on terrorism. Our money is riding on the next ship, which should arrive soon. I’ll get a couple of days’ notice to find a stash site and make sure the deliveries are lined up.”

      “Anything else?” asked Jack.

      “Whiskey Jake and I are to meet with Damien tomorrow. Said something about having to see Leitch in the morning and then he wants to meet us right after.”

      “Bet Leitch wants to talk to him about the labs,” said Danny.

      “Naw, I don’t think so. Damien is worried about the anti-gang legislation but nobody was charged with that. The labs will probably come up, but Damien wouldn’t concern himself with something as trivial as that.”

      “What do you think it’s about?” asked Jack. “Money laundering?”

      “Leitch could be his Maytag agent, but these days Damien seems to be fixated on the Indos and what they’re up to. He told Sparks to take whatever funding he needs for bugging and put him in charge of selecting surveillance teams. I think we might be going to war.”

      “With the police?” asked Danny.

      Lance frowned at Danny, then said, “No, of course not. With the Indos. I got no idea where that thing came from about someone killing the other Jack.”

      “I want you to try and identify the dirty narc for us,” said Jack.

      “Yeah, I know, but it isn’t the sort of thing I can ask about. Maybe now with my new promotion, things will come a little easier. Damien mentioned there will be some restructuring taking place. Maybe that’s what he wants to talk to Whiskey Jake and me about tomorrow.”

      It was later that afternoon when Ray parked his green van with the tinted rear windows and went for a stroll in Stanley Park. It didn’t take him long to find Leitch, who handed him a manila envelope. Ray opened it and withdrew a report.

      “It’s yours to keep,” said Leitch. “I made a copy.”

      Ray was pleased as he glanced at the report. It gave him names, addresses, criminal histories, and a complete picture of the hierarchy of organized crime as it related to the Indo community in Western Canada. It also listed their affiliations with other groups worldwide. He was particularly pleased to see that The Boss was not included. Canada’s federal police force was sadly lacking in its assessment!

      Ray read in the report that there was speculation about a war in British Columbia between the Indos and Satans Wrath. Interesting. Who will win? The bikers are much more organized yet seem to lack the propensity to remove obstacles related to the judiciary — something I just can’t comprehend. On the other hand, the Indos use violence without hesitation but are not as well organized. If there is a war, which side will win and work for us?

      Ray looked at Leitch and asked, “Has Damien received this yet?”

      Leitch shook his head and said, “The copy for Damien has been locked away as usual. I’m supposed to give it to him tomorrow morning.”

      Ray snickered to himself. The report was from a police officer that Satans Wrath had cultivated, yet it was he who saw it first. Leitch knew his place. The amount of money he had been paid was minuscule in the overall scheme of things. Of course, a bloody fool like Leitch thinks the amount I gave him makes him wealthy. Small men ... small dreams.

      Ray saw another sheet of paper in the envelope and pulled it out. “What’s this?” he asked.

      “Some Mountie that Damien wanted checked out. An officer by the name of Taggart. Someone by that same name was murdered. The note says the police officer with the same name is almost in tears over it.”

      “Really!” Ray paused for a moment, lost in thought, then asked, “Tell me, is

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