and then with smiles of approval as the full implications of this move became evident.
When the buzz of conversation had diminished, Gendron went on.
“Unfortunately I have no idea whether we can have an answer from all these countries within the time limit given to us. We have sent a message to every head of state in OPEC outlining our position and asking for support, but it will be the attendance of the appropriate Canadian ambassador that will be important in securing a commitment. With good luck, we may have some answers by the time the vote is taken at five o’clock this evening.”
Gendron’s assistant, to his left, plucked at his sleeve, and pointed to his watch. Gendron concluded, “Prime Minister, ladies and gentlemen, I have used up my time allocation. I now turn you over to the Honourable Otto Gunther, Minister of Energy, Mines and Resources, and his Deputy Minister, Claude Lafrance.”
Placer Lake / 6:10 a.m., MDT
The Twin Otter was circling over Placer Lake thirty-five miles southwest of Aklavik. This was the spot marked Number Two on Sam’s map, the site of the bomb that was due to explode first in sequence.
They had worked late the night before, after Sam’s departure on the government Hercules, going over the map and rechecking carefully the locations and the planned explosion times. Bessie peered intently as the plane passed over the point where the pipeline crossed the stream feeding the lake. “This is it,” she said.
Ray turned and shouted to the pilot, “O.K., Sandy, you can put her down on the lake.”
They still had lots of time. If they could find this bomb and get it safely defused without unexpected problems, they’d likely get to the rest of the bombs all right.
The pilot completed his turn and headed northeast to touch down on the lake about half a mile from the pipe crossing. He landed in the soft snow and taxied back to get as close to the pipeline as he could. Then he shut down the engines.
Bessie and the Staff Sergeant collected their gear — snowshoes, a shovel and a small tool kit containing a set of screwdrivers, a pair of pliers and insulating tape. Then Ray opened the rear passenger door, sat down on the aircraft floor with his feet outboard and put on his snowshoes before jumping onto the snow-covered surface of the lake. Bessie followed.
Pulling their parka hoods up over their heads, they set off at a fast pace with the Staff Sergeant leading. They crossed the shore of the lake, passed through a heavy stand of jackpine, and broke into the pipeline clearing a few feet away from where the pipe crossed the stream and Sam had planted the explosive charge. When they entered the clearing, Bessie moved ahead of the Staff Sergeant, taking the small shovel from his hand as she passed him. She led the way to the pipe and located the spot where she thought the bomb was buried. Even though Sam and she had been there only two days earlier, the windblown snow had obliterated any tracks they had left, and all evidence of their tampering was gone. Gently she began to scrape away the top layer of snow with a sideways motion of the shovel, but then she stopped and handed it back to the Staff Sergeant saying, “Maybe I shouldn’t use the shovel. If I hit the timing mechanism I might set it off.”
She began to scoop the snow away with her fur-mittened hands, slowly and cautiously. Finally she touched something hard. She said, “I’ve got it.”
The Staff Sergeant said, “O.K., Bessie, I’ll handle it now.”
He took Bessie’s place. He could see the corner of the blue plastic bag at the bottom of the hole, about a foot down, and he scraped away some more snow until he could see clearly the entire top of the package. Using both hands, he pulled it up towards him. It came easily, for the snow had not been packed down. Moving very carefully, he backed away from the pipe for a distance of about ten feet, and laid the package gently in the snow. Because of its weight, it sank several inches into the surface. It was going to be difficult to work on.
Ray said, “Bessie, if you’d come around facing me and bring the front of one of your snowshoes in between mine, the three together should give me a flat surface I can work on.”
Gingerly Ray lifted the package out of the snow and laid it on the snowshoes. He pulled off his fur mitts and undid the twist fastener around the neck of the bag. With his left hand he held the bottom of the bag and attempted to reach inside to grasp the timer and detonator. “It won’t work. I’ll have to cut the bag open. I don’t want to pull on the wires to get the explosives out.”
He took out a short, extremely sharp knife and slit the plastic bag from end to end, revealing the entire explosive apparatus. Quickly he checked the timer. Correct, as listed. It had been set to go off forty-three hours from the time the bomb was laid. Just an hour to go. Then he examined the detonator carefully. The arming device was in and set, the all-important defusing wheel had its white marker in the correct position. Cautiously Ray placed the index finger and thumb of his left hand on the edge of the arming device to steady it, then slowly he rotated the wheel clockwise until the marker disappeared and it came to a full stop.
It was twenty degrees below zero, but the Staff Sergeant was soaking wet with perspiration. While, as he had said, he knew something about explosives, he was far from being an expert, and here he was, deep in the bush, relying totally on a quick briefing given to him by Sam Allen. If that briefing had been wrong … !
Now that the timer had been disarmed, Ray picked up the pair of pliers and quickly cut the connection between the plastic explosives and the arming device. He got stiffly up from his crouched position, looked down at Bessie from his great height and said quietly, “Bessie, I can understand that you people feel strongly about what the white man is doing to you, but to play around with this stuff you and Sam must be right out of your goddam minds.” Then he bent over and picked up the explosive, stuffed it in his left pocket and took the small tool kit, arming device and timer. Bessie didn’t reply, but her eyes showed the strain. She picked up the shovel and fell quietly in behind Ray as he headed back toward the aircraft. As they emerged from the jackpines at the edge of the lake, Sandy started up the engines. As they climbed on board, he said, “Everything O.K.?”
Ray nodded. “Everything’s O.K., but this is the best way I know of to get a heart attack. Let’s hit Number One next. That’s up to the northwest. We’ll do it, and then come straight back south, doing the rest of them in the series. We’ve got the tough one out of the way now.”
The pilot nodded, did his pre-takeoff check, and shoved the throttle forward. The aircraft skied a few feet down the track and was almost immediately airborne. In five minutes they reached Number One point.
Ottawa / 8:30 a.m., EDT
As the Minister for External Affairs was returning to his seat next to the Prime Minister, he passed Otto Gunther and his deputy on their way to the front of the Chamber. There was a general rustle in the audience as people shuffled papers and shifted positions, but by the time the Minister of Energy, Mines and Resources was established behind the lectern with his notes before him, the room was silent once again.
Gunther’s bald head reflected the lights of the Chamber and the television spotlights. Already a few tiny beads of perspiration were appearing. He was not a good speaker, and it was a strain for him to address this kind of audience, or any kind of audience, for that matter. With a final nervous clearing of his throat, he began, his flat, Newfoundland accent more pronounced than usual. “Prime Minister, ladies and gentlemen… I mean Prime Minister, Members of the Senate, Members of the House, Premiers, ladies and gentlemen: From the viewpoint of my department — I am sorry — my ministry, Energy, Mines and Resources — if I may I will refer to it as EMR — we have been … rather, we are responsible … that is to say, I am the minister to whom
