Angel in the Full Moon. Don Easton

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would see her for a few minutes each morning and again at night. Except for hurting her the first night, he had not actually touched her.

      One night he dragged a garden hose through the passageway and said he was going to give her a shower. Despite the incredible shame she felt at undressing in front of him, her fear made her obey and she squatted obediently on the floor and tried to cover herself with her hands.

      “You are a filthy, worthless little child,” he said. “No wonder your father gave you away,” he said as he urinated on her, before taking the hose and spraying cold water into her face.

      Every time H

ng heard the familiar creak of the passage door, she automatically cringed and drew her knees up into the fetal position as she waited for Pops to enter, mark the X on the calendar, and announce how many days were left until “red-circle day.”

      Tonight was different. Pops shoved a large cardboard box ahead of him through the passageway opening and set it down out of H

ng’s reach. The box was big enough that it could have held an object the size of a kitchen chair.

      “There are special things in here for you,” said Pops. He marked another X on the calendar and said, “Things for red-circle days. As you can see, the first such day is tomorrow.”

      H

ng didn’t respond, but just stared at him from where she lay.

      “What do you think is in the box?” asked Pops.

      H

ng continued to stare.

      Pops tone turned to anger and he said, “Well, you’ve got twenty-four hours to think about it!”

      H

ng closed her eyes and, a moment later, she heard the creak of the door as Pops left her alone. She immediately got to her feet and got as close to the box as her chain would permit, but she was too far away to see inside it. She went back to her mattress, sat, and stared at the box.

      What does it mean? She looked at the calendar again. Four more weeks and Linh will be here ... and I told her to come!

      H

ng cried in anguish. Eventually she caught her breath between sobs and looked at the calendar. Tomorrow is the first red-circle day. There are more circles later. What do they mean?

       chapter seven

      I t was eight o’clock at night when Jack and Laura saw the Russians return to one of their favourite restaurants.

      Jack lowered his binoculars and said, “Table for two. Doesn’t look like they expect any company. Let’s knock it off and go home and introduce ourselves to our spouses.”

      “Looking for a treat, are you?”

      Jack chuckled and said, “Something like that.”

      “Well, I figure we’re likely wasting our time out here at the moment.”

      “Something is going on with these two,” said Jack. “Retired schoolteachers don’t have that kind of money to throw around. Not to mention they had the clout to meet with the top exec of Satans Wrath.”

      “I’m not saying we shouldn’t work on them. I know the type. Whatever they’re involved in is big enough that they aren’t standing on the corner dealing ounces. Working on this type ... it’s always peaks and valleys.”

      “And right now we’re in a valley,” said Jack. “What we really need is an informant. Someone on the inside.”

      “Who and how?”

      “Don’t know yet. Tomorrow I’m going to go to a bookstore. Start learning a little Russian and Vietnamese. Will help build a rapport if we do find someone to turn. Besides, it’ll give me something to read when we’re on surveillance.”

      It was midnight when Jack glanced out of the ensuite bathroom just as Natasha was getting into bed.

      “How good is your Russian?” he asked. “Could you teach me some?”

      “With a name like Natasha Trovinski, how good do you think it is?”

      “I don’t really know. I’ve heard you talk to your parents.”

      “Lazhites’ syooda,” she replied.

      “What did you say?”

      “Lay down over here.”

      “That sounds real good to me!”

      The next afternoon Jack and Laura watched as the Russians left their apartment and got into a waiting limousine-styled taxi. They followed them to a location on the west end of Vancouver where the Russians had the limo wait as they went into a store. Laura stayed in the car while Jack took a portable police radio and went on foot.

      Jack returned a few minutes later just as the Russians were returning to the limo.

      Jack grinned at Laura and said, “They popped into a store called West Marine. They were asking for marine charts for around Seattle. The clerk said they didn’t carry any for Puget Sound. They only carried charts for places north of the forty-ninth.”

      “They’re looking for a place to bring a boat in,” said Laura.

      “Definitely. Our friend wouldn’t help them with the Vancouver Port so now they’re checking other possibilities.”

      “Seattle!” said Laura. “Are they nuts? With what’s going on in the world these days I wouldn’t want to get caught smuggling something into that area. The Americans are liable to shoot first without ever asking any questions.”

      Jack’s call to the DEA came up empty. He looked at Laura and said, “They’ve never heard of them. If something crops up, they said they’d call.”

      “You two!” said Quaile. “Are they not paying you enough?”

      Jack looked up to see Quaile standing in the open doorway. He had his hands on his hips and was staring at the both of them.

      “My salary is adequate,” replied Jack.

      “Then tell me why you’ve worn the same tie for three days in a row? Not to mention your shirt looks like you’ve slept in it! Laura, you’re not much better. With Jack, somehow I’m not surprised, but with you, I am very disappointed.”

      Quaile stared briefly at Laura. If he was expecting to see a look of embarrassment he didn’t. Her look was that of utter contempt.

      “I can only imagine that you are being unduly influenced,” he added. “From now on, and until I say otherwise, I want

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