No Solution - Chapter 3
UNION STATION: EXTERIOR COMMAND PERIMETER.
Lou and Wordy were working to get the much-needed security footage from the ATMs, as well as from hidden cameras used by TTC security to monitor the area, which was something Spike had suggested.
Spike himself was still occupied with the anti-explosives robot. He maneuvered Babycakes towards the backpack inside the large lobby. Natural light that filled the area filtered through the huge, arched windows that were a feature of the station's beautiful design.
Even though their anonymous caller claimed this bomb was another dud, Greg did not want to take the chance that it wasn't.
He noted the anxious expressions on Sam and Ed's faces as they looked on. Greg knew that once Lou and Wordy found out that Jules was now at the mercy of what sounded like a very dangerous person, they, too, would be equally upset.
It would be up to him to set the tone, and re-focus their attention and energies on finding the person responsible for leaving the backpack behind. Greg prayed that if they were lucky enough to find that individual, that he'd also be able to lead them to Jules.
Greg's next course of action involved trying to make a connection between the odd demand made by the anonymous caller and the recent drug bust. He knew it would be a cold day in Hell before Vice handed confiscated illicit drugs back over to thugs, but he still needed to confirm some details.
His working theory was that it was a gang member involved with Jules' abduction, but wondered what petty gang used bomb scares to further their criminal activities. Greg decided to keep an open mind about different possibilities, but so far, none were presenting themselves.
"If it's drugs this guy wants in exchange for Jules, we need to get more intel on that drug bust," Greg said to Ed and Sam. "If it was a known gang that was busted, maybe we'll get some names."
Sam and Ed nodded in agreement.
"Winnie," Greg called the young woman back at headquarters. "I need to speak immediately with someone in Vice... uh, Unit commander over there is an Inspector Wallen, I think."
"You got it, Boss," Winnie said, and pulled her searchable list of district police units and staff, and prepared to connect Greg.
Vice Unit Staff Inspector Scott Wallen smiled at the sight of his visitor.
"Hey, Donna! What are you doing here?"
Constable Donna Sabine returned the smile, and shook hands with her former commander.
Scott Wallen was forty-five years old, ruggedly handsome and solidly built. A twenty-year veteran of the police force, he'd put in his time as a patrol officer before settling on Vice, and rose steadily through the ranks.
"Just thought I'd pay a visit to the old stomping grounds, for nostalgia's sake," Donna answered.
"It's great to see you," Scott said, as he sat back down behind his desk, and motioned for Donna to sit opposite him. "So, how's SRU working out for you? Getting tired of wearing the 'cool pants' yet?"
"Hardly," Donna replied with a small smile. "It's hard work, but I love it. I just actually landed a permanent spot on Team Three. So far, they've been very welcoming."
"That's great," Scott said enthusiastically. "But I don't envy you all those SIU hearings. Must drive you nuts every time you're called to use lethal force."
Donna shrugged slightly. "Yeah... that part of the job - that's the hard part. Honestly, it took me a while to get my head into it. I hadn't realised how unprepared I'd be for that first kill shot..."
Donna's thoughts flew back to the incident involving a prisoner escort that went sour. She'd been forced to take down an agent that was supposed to be working with them, but was instead working against them.
"I heard about that," Scott said sympathetically. "It's tough when it's one of our own."
"Speaking of which," Donna said, changing the subject, "how's my 'replacement' working out?"
Scott's expression darkened. "I don't know if I should hope we're right or wrong about Draper," he said. They were talking about an officer named Dale Draper, an eight-year veteran with two years in with Vice.
"My last day here, he actually thanked me for recommending him for the spot," Donna said, "but I know what you mean. Nothing worse than a dirty cop."
While there was no concrete evidence Dale Draper was on the take, Scott, Donna and a handful of other trusted members of the Vice unit arranged that he would be assigned a spot much closer to the drug action than he had been. The only way they could accomplish this without raising Draper's suspicions was to have a spot in the undercover division become available to him. They hoped that the closer he was to the criminals, the more likely it was he'd trip himself up - if he was indeed dirty.
Scott drummed his fingers on his desk. "I guess it was a happy coincidence you were getting antsy here in Vice," he said thoughtfully. "When you started hinting that you were looking for a transfer, it gave that added sense of realism to the situation that was badly needed to get Draper to buy into the whole deal."
To further entice Draper to accept the undercover assignment, Donna had led Draper to believe he had her support, and that she had spoken to their superiors about considering him to replace her. As far as anyone knew, Draper was unaware that this endorsement was patently false.
The phone on Scott's desk rang, halting their conversation on the matter.
"Inspector Wallen," he answered. He sent an apologetic look to Donna.
Donna pantomimed I'll leave if you need privacy, and Scott nodded with an even deeper look of apology. Donna waved off his unspoken regret, and quietly left his office, mouthing I'll catch you later.
Scott didn't recognize the voice on the other line, but he recognized the name.
"This is Sergeant Greg Parker, SRU..."
"How can I help you, Sergeant?" Scott asked, in a business-like fashion.
"I'm working a very sensitive case right now where time is of the essence. The fewer people that know what's going down, the better. I'm sure you heard about the bomb scare we had yesterday afternoon?"
"Yes, Sergeant," Scott said, "go on..."
"It looks like the guy behind it is at it again. Today he planted what's looking to be another dud in Union Station. The difference this time is that he called with a set of demands. What can you tell me about the drug bust that went down in Parkdale ten days ago?"
Jules' arms and legs were starting to ache from being in such a cramped, unnatural position. Her head was still sore, and her stomach was starting to rumble.
That's the last time I go for a run before I eat breakfast, she thought, and wondered if her abductors were going to be hospitable enough to feed her. If I'm even alive long enough to need feeding! Jules fought to banish the unsettling thought that she was not going to get out of this predicament alive.
At the moment, she was alone in the windowless room where she was being held captive. The overhead light had been switched off, but her eyes had since grown accustomed to the darkness. Her captors had left her mouth taped shut. The temperature in the room was cool, leading Jules to surmise she was being held underground, possibly in a basement.
Jules searched her memory for the hundredth time, but could not come up with any reason as to why she had been snatched. She didn't recognize the woman, Elena, or any of the three men who'd been guarding her earlier.
She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious, but she decided it couldn't have been for very long. By now, she knew Team One would notice she hadn't arrived for her shift. It pained her to think that they'd be worrying about her, but it was also a comfort to know for sure they'd be sending out the cavalry to look for her.
With another pang of guilt, she knew that ex-boyfriend and fellow SRU teammate, Sam Braddock, was probably really worried about her. She'd been the one to terminate the relationship, in spite of his protests that they could make things work. Even though she was aware that Sam was dating someone new, she noticed the way he looked at her sometimes. It was nothing overt, but she still managed to catch his stolen glances and concealed expressions of desire that he occasionally sent her way.
Sorry, Sam... she thought.
And the way Greg and the rest of the team had welcomed her back... it was like returning to her own family.
Guys, you have to find me. I don't know why these people have taken me. I don't know what it is they seem to think I've done. Because if you don't find me, I'm afraid they're going to kill me. I've just cheated death a few months ago. I don't want to die. Not now. Not after what I've been through.
Jules' ears perked up at the sound of a door opening.
She saw a feminine figure move through the darkness.
Elena had returned.
"We've just given instructions to your boss..." Elena's voice was hard as nails. "He and the rest of your pathetic police force will just be running around like chickens with their heads cut off. By the time they realise that they are being played for fools, it will be much too late for you."
Jules could not stop the involuntary shudder that rippled through her body at these words.
Find me, Sam. Please...Hurry...
"The bust in Parkdale was a joint take-down with Gangs and Guns," Scott Wallen explained to Greg. "Collared several members of a gang that goes by the name of Los Reyes del Norte."
"'The Northern Kings'," Greg gave the approximate translation.
"Yeah," Scott replied. "Seized several kilos of cocaine, some marijuana, and about ten kilos of ecstacy. We also picked up some weapons and such, but nothing serious in that regard. We'd been watching them for a while. One of our snitches informed us they were about to move the stuff to get it to the streets, so we decided to act."
Greg breathed heavily, deciding to reveal the desperate nature of the situation. "He's holding one of my people hostage, Inspector. Says he'll kill her unless we deliver those seized drugs."
Scott cursed under his breath. "Aw, hell!"
"Where's this gang's main territory?" Greg asked.
"Nowhere now," Scott said. "We grabbed most of them. The rest scattered like dust in the wind."
"Hmm," Greg said, deep in thought. "It had crossed my mind that grabbing my constable was some sort of retribution for the drug bust, but..."
"This gang was circling the drain, Sergeant," Scott said. "That bust ten days ago was like a death knell. Between other gangs muscling in on their territory and plain attrition, the Northern Kings just don't have the resources to regroup so fast. I can't see that they'd organize something this elaborate in such a short space of time."
"I see. Just the same, I need to know for sure if they're connected. The members that were arrested... where are they being held?"
"They were remanded to The West," Scott replied, meaning the West Detention center in the north-western part of town. "They're awaiting arraignment on various and sundry charges, as you can imagine. Why, you wanna rattle a few chains up there and see what they spill?"
Greg had been considering this. Knowing they had very few leads, he realised he might very well have to look for answers among the incarcerated members of the busted gang.
"We just might have to," Greg responded.
"Okay," Scott said. "You do what you have to do. Just know you have the full cooperation of my Unit if you need us. Sergeant, I hope you get your constable out alive."
"I do, too," Greg said solemnly.
With that, they terminated the call.
"Boss?" Constable Scarlatti's voice came through Greg's earpiece.
"Go ahead, Spike," he answered.
"Bomb's another dud. If we set it off ourselves, it's just going to be a bunch of smoke again, just like yesterday on the streetcar."
"You sure about that, Spike?"
"Positive. Babycakes detected no traces of anything more 'explosive' than potassium nitrate, a little gunpowder for 'pow' factor, a fuse and simple ignition device that's probably triggered by a cell phone signal."
Greg angrily whipped his cap off and scrubbed his scalp. Smoke bombs were simple enough to make, and anyone with a little technical know-how could rig it to explode with a cell phone signal.
"I guess that's the good news," Greg said, shoving his cap back on his head. "Okay, Spike, take care of it. I'm sure the traffic commission will be relieved to hear they won't have to deal with any property damage today."
Winnie called through immediately after Greg finished his talk with Spike.
"Sarge, a patrol unit has just confirmed that Constable Callaghan is not at her residence, and that her vehicle is still there, too. No sign of a break-in or forced entry. Neighbours haven't seen her. I took the extra step of calling local hospitals, just in case...and nada. No sign of her anywhere."
Greg felt his spirits sink. He could hear the note of distress in Winnie's voice, too. If he'd any lingering doubts at all that the anonymous caller had been bluffing about Jules, those doubts had just gone out the window.
"Thanks, Winnie," Greg said sullenly. "Keep me posted if you hear anything more."
"Will do, Sarge," Winnie said.
Greg put his cell phone away. Jules, he thought, hang in there. We're coming. We'll find you. We're not going to lose you. Not after we just got you back.
Sam looked like he was ready to shoot something, while Ed's expression was grim. Both knew that every minute that ticked by was one less minute they had to find Jules.
Lou and Wordy finally arrived with the ATM and TTC security camera footage. Greg provided them with an update, and both expressed their outrage that Jules was being held hostage. They were now quite keen to look at the video they'd just brought back.
Inside the tactical truck, they reviewed the images. Working backwards from the time the bomb threat was called into the TTC customer service, they focused on people loitering around the departures information center.
Lou, who'd elected to take the bank machine footage, let out a frustrated growl. "Images are too blurry... I was afraid of this. We probably won't be able to make out anything concrete, even if this guy was caught on video."
"Keep trying, Lou," Greg said encouragingly. "Do the best you can to enhance what we have."
"Right, Boss," Lou said.
"Anything promising?" Greg asked Wordy.
"Nothing yet, but the quality of video looks a lot better than what Lou has to work with," Wordy replied optimistically. "If he's on here, we'll probably be able to grab a good still of his face."
Greg's phone rang, and he saw it was SRU headquarters again. "You got something for me, Winnie?" he asked.
"Yeah, Sarge," Winnie replied hurriedly. "It sounds like the same guy calling again. He wants to speak with you."
Greg sucked in a breath. "Put him through, Winnie."
This time, Sam, Ed, Wordy and Lou were privy to the conversation.
"Hello again, Sergeant Greg Parker," the same voice from earlier spoke. "How is that 'cooperation' coming with your Vice unit that we talked about?"
"We spoke," Greg said slowly. "They told me about what happened ten days ago in Parkdale."
"So you know that I was telling the truth, then, about the drugs they seized," the caller said.
"Yes. You were right about that," Greg said. "I also know that several members of Los Reyes del Norte were taken into custody... and that the rest of them have scattered."
"So maybe I want to resurrect Los Reyes del Norte," the voice said, in an amused tone. "Your time is running out, Sergeant Parker. You have less than twenty-two hours now to deliver what it is we want. Every hour you spend stalling will result in more calls to your police services about more bombs concealed throughout various locations in this city, as I have warned you. I remind you again that if we do not get what we want, the life of your team member is the ultimate price for your failure."
The line went dead.
Greg slammed his fist on the wall of the truck. His gut was churning with anxiety and frustration.
"Greg, did you notice something different about what he said?" Ed asked, tying to placate his Sergeant. "This time he said 'we'; not 'I', as in: 'if we do not get what we want'."
Greg calmed himself and sent Ed a grateful look. "Yeah, you're right, Eddie."
"He's definitely working with someone else!" Sam said.
"Goes with my original theory, then," Greg commented, "that we're dealing with a gang."
"Think it's those scattered members of Los Reyes del Norte trying for a comeback?" Ed asked.
Greg frowned. "Inspector Wallen over in Vice seemed not to think so... I mean, anything is possible, but there's something about all of this that just isn't right. I can't put my finger on it..."
Lou looked up from the monitor he'd been peering at. "Los Reyes del Norte was really decimated by gang wars the last few years. From what I know about them, I don't think there's anybody left who has the power or the brains to orchestrate something like this."
Greg mulled over Lou's information, which confirmed what Inspector Scott Wallen had said. He snapped his fingers.
"I know what's been bugging me. For all the demands and threats this guy's been making, he's been very specific about everything from the amount of drugs that were seized, to the duds that have been planted."
"Yeah, so it just means he's really organized and knows his stuff," Ed spoke up.
"But he still hasn't told us where to bring these drugs he wants to claim! You don't demand something without having some means of receiving what it is you're demanding. No. There's something else going on here, guys. I think we're being jerked around. Lou; Wordy, keep working on this security footage."
Lou and Wordy nodded solemnly.
"If we figure out who this guy is, we'll be one step closer to figuring out his real agenda."
Greg didn't have to say aloud what they were all hoping, which was that those answers would come in time to save Jules.
As a precautionary measure, he advised Winnie to put all available teams on alert, in case more bomb threats did indeed come through.
Knowing that Ed and Sam would refuse to remain idle, he decided the time was right for them to learn more about the busted members of Los Reyes del Norte, no matter how tenuous a connection there might be to Jules' abduction.
Reynaldo Villalobos reveled in the fresh air and bright sunlight once he was finally past the gates of the detention center after he'd made bail. As soon as he was freed from custody, he was transported immediately by members of his organization to one of their properties. He knew Elena would be there, waiting for him as well. He was quite anxious to see how the others were succeeding with the plan.
He was welcomed back by his compatriots, handed a lit joint, and a bottle of something he barely tasted when he poured it down his throat. It was fairly depressing to be taken into a somewhat run-down building and down some concrete steps to a cool basement, but Reynaldo knew that in this kind of neighbourhood, no one bothered you, which was quite perfect for their current operation.
Elena was standing in the doorway of a small, windowless room.
"¡Bienvenido, Reynaldo!," she greeted him.
Jules heard this from her chair, and could not keep up with the Spanish that tumbled from their lips. She recognized 'Welcome'; that she knew. She picked up on the fact that they had a new arrival whose name was evidently 'Reynaldo', but after that, was totally lost as to the content of the conversation. She thought she caught a few other names in-between, like Hector, Enrique, and the name Oscar a couple times.
The overhead light was suddenly switched on. Jules grimaced, and blinked at the harsh brightness. When she could finally tolerate the light, Jules looked up and saw Elena and Reynaldo staring at her. She saw Reynaldo was about thirty years old, and wearing an expression of confusion.
"No..." the word was drawn out slowly, as he shook his head. He said something else to Elena, which Jules again could not decipher.
Elena turned to him and fired off some angry words.
"No, no," Reynaldo protested, defensively holding up his hands. "Rubia."
That word Jules recognized: Blonde.
Elena's face twitched. "Rubia."
Reynaldo nodded. "Sí." He gestured towards Jules, and seemed to be patiently explaining something further to Elena.
Elena looked at Jules, and back at Reynaldo. She hissed something, and judging by Reynaldo's reaction, Jules knew it wasn't anything pretty.
Elena fumed. She pulled out a cell phone and dialled a number furiously.
"What am I paying you for if you do not give me what I want?" she screeched into the phone, not even bothering with a greeting when the other party answered.
Jules tried to pay close attention, relieved now that Elena was conversing in English. Obviously, the person she'd called didn't speak Spanish.
"Estúpido!" Elena bellowed. "You said it was the female! We have her now... but Reynaldo was there when it happened. He says this is not the one... this mix-up would not have happened at all if you had simply done what I had asked, and that was to provide us with the police file... Stop. I do not want any more of your excuses. I do not pay you for mistakes; I pay you for your usefulness to me for your position with the police."
Elena snapped her phone shut. She strode over to Jules.
"I should kill you right now," she said, her voice laced with contempt, "but I will not. It will all very much depend on what your Sergeant Parker says and does next. If I do not get from him the answer I want, you will have outlived your usefulness to me as a hostage."
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