A look at Davinder brought the Sikh constable forward with a bundle of clothes, which included an RCMP issue flak jacket of Kevlar, a pair of heavy combat boots and the equipment belt that they were all wearing.
"You need to get out of those overalls," she indicated, taking the bundle of clothing from Davinder to hand them to Mordecai. "And put these on." As the big man took the bundle from her with a bemused expression on his face, she turned to Elisa. "We need our substitute, Elisa, ASAP."
"I'm on it," the young Asian woman replied and, with a nod to the rest of the team, she was jogging around the van.
Staring after her for a moment, Mordecai sighed softly when she disappeared and began to undo the buttons holding the overalls on with one hand, holding his new clothes in the other. Seeing the big man begin to shed the overalls, the women turned away to give him a measure of modesty, though he appeared not to care one way or the other.
Dee could hear the big man slide on the pants just as Elisa and Duffy came around the corner, dragging a third man with them, blindfolded and cuffed, hand and foot. Loud protests were coming from within the canvas bag draped over his head.
"This is totally unfair, you fucking pigs!" the man snarled, his voice thick with rage and impotent frustration as Elisa gave his arm a sharp tug, pulling him forward. "I'm supposed to be going to Cold Lake! What the hell is this shit?"
Mordecai looked up as he buckled the equipment belt on, now completely clothed in the black uniform that the other officers were wearing, gazing for a moment at the bound and blindfolded man that was apparently his replacement.
"I got my rights, you know," the man went on to bite out even as Davinder and another male member of the transition team took him by his arms and pulled him up into the van where he was quickly secured where Mordecai had been sitting.
As soon as the newly arrived man was secured, Davinder was waving the rest of the team back into the van. Which they quickly did so without a sound, leaving Dee and Mordecai standing alone outside.
"And?" Mordecai said softly, the flak jacket going on last, the final item.
"And now we finish our little exchange," Dee said in reply, turning to climb into the van as well. She found her old seat and sat, looking back at Mordecai. "Coming?"
Realizing his part in the charade that the Normals were playing out, Mordecai gave his equipment belt a last tug to make sure it was secured and, with his old overalls in his hand, he stepped into the van, finding a place beside the officer with a turban. As he sat down, the officer handed him an automatic weapon exactly like the one he was carrying and a handgun to slip into the holster at his waist.
Mordecai swiftly holstered the sidearm as the blindfolded prisoner continued to grumble loudly, checking to make sure both the handgun and the automatic rifle were safetied before he let the rifle rest in his hands in a grip he copied from the man beside him.
"This is fucking bullshit, is what it is," the prisoner growled. "I had my room picked out and everything."
Abruptly the turbaned officer reached out with a gloved hand to take the prisoner by the collar of the overalls he was wearing, matching the pair that Mordecai had let drop onto the floor of the van to kick under his seat once he was secured. Knotting thick fingers into the heavy fabric, he gave the man a hard jerk.
"Want to be gagged as well as blindfolded?" he hissed in a tight whisper, leaning close enough for the man to feel his hot breath on his neck.
Immediately the prisoner fell silent, the note in Davinder's voice enough to convince him of his sincerity. Nodding with satisfaction, Davinder uncurled his fingers from the prisoner's collar and sat back, a slight smile dancing on his lips.
Satisfied herself that they were ready to go, Dee reached out to give the grill connecting the cab with the back of the van a hard knock. She sat back as the engine roared back to life and the van began to move.
The distance to the airport was covered in tense silence as the members of the transition team, which now included Mordecai, complete with RCMP credentials Dee's CSIS security access had created for him. But it wasn't idle silence. In turn, Mordecai felt himself being examined by each member of the team, measuring, weighing and evaluating him with every glance.
It was understandable: if they were all aware of his escape attempt and what he had done to their fellow officers, they had a right to be wary of him. He certainly would be, if he were in their places. Abruptly he smiled thinly as he realized the irony of that thought.
Thanks to the loss of his abilities, Mordecai now was in their place! He was a burnout, a Normal, no longer the incredibly powerful hardwire he was before. It was only the foresight of his mentor that saw the big man with the physical abilities that he still had, for use when his mental abilities were exhausted in battle. Or injured. 'Thank you, my teacher,' he silently said, sighing softly as the depth of what he had become began to descend onto him. 'For giving me the tools to remain alive!'
Alive, so he could continue the fight against the Brotherhood, thanks to this small group of people that had extricated him from what was surely a one-way trip to a Brotherhood assassin waiting for him on the other end. The Normals' version of the lone gunmen? Only time would tell him that.
Tires whining softly across concrete, the van moved passed a security checkpoint before driving onto the concrete of the runways themselves, heading directly to a small De Havilland Challenger jet with RCMP markings waiting for them by itself a short distance from the terminal building. There the van stopped as a number of armed and armored constables in black special ops uniforms and gear stepped from the plane, its boarding door and built-in staircase extended to the ground. One of them came up behind the van to open its door just as the jet's twin engines began to spin up.
"Constable McMaster?" the officer opening the door asked as he made a cursory examination of the van's interior, satisfied to see the transition team intact and the witness/prisoner firmly secured.
Dee nodded and handed the officer the clipboard with the documentation from the hospital as well as their own authorization and protocol documentation, naming her and her team as the transition team. She stepped out of the van and turned to watch as Davinder and Morgan, one of the male members of the team, unhook the blindfolded man from the van wall and lead him out.
"Any trouble?" the constable looking at the paperwork asked casually. Dee shrugged.
"Not really. But he got verbally abusive so we blindfolded him with the shroud. He's currently under a verbal command to restrain himself under threat of gagging."
The constable nodded in understanding as he looked up to visually examine the prisoner.
"I don't blame you, after what he did at Foothills," the officer dryly commented. "How many CPD officers did he take out there before they shot him? Eight? Nine?"
"Something like that." Dee watched as the officers from the plane took custody of Mordecai's replacement and hustled him up the staircase and into the plane.
By this time the plane's engines were revved up to full power, filling the air with their tight snarl as hot exhaust spewed out to heat the air into a thousand dancing eddies of translucent movement. Thankfully a chinook wind had blown in the night before to warm the air to tolerable levels or they would've felt an uncomfortable wave of heat washing over them from those self-same engines.
"Well, we have him now, McMaster," the constable shouted over the engines' roar as he handed Dee back her part of the paperwork along with his own, confirming their identity as the team that would be carrying Mordecai's replacement to Ottawa.
"And we'll make sure he has a nice, quiet flight all the way to the capital."
"Good." Dee let a small smile touch her lips as she handed the documentation back after giving them a cursory glance. They appeared in complete order, but, in reality, it didn't really matter. They had the real witness in their possession. She half suspected, as did Duffy, that the man they were putting on the plane was going to end up dead before the week was out.
In the two weeks following the Brotherhood assault on the hospital and the RCMP's taking over of the investigation into the events in Calgary, that self-same investigation had stalled even more quickly than it had under the mayor's taskforce. Despite the RCMP's long history of competence and efficiency, the investigation was swiftly bogged down by a level of bureaucratic bungling, administrative mishandling and missed assignments that was simply amazing.
A depth of incompetence that could have only been reached by something, or someone working on the inside to sabotage the case. An insider with considerable power.
Of course Duffy was the first one to suggest some sort of collusion or conspiracy at work as he watched the RCMP investigation first stall, then begin to self-destruct. Dee, with her experience at CSIS, was well aware of what a conspiracy looked like and, after Duffy had shown her all the telltale signs, she had to agree. Something was happening inside the RCMP.
That added further incentive to get Mordecai out of RCMP hands as soon as possible. If there were indeed a conspiracy at work, he would most likely disappear and, shortly afterward, so would the case, dead in the water without a civilian eyewitness. That mustn't happen, if the destruction in Calgary were to stop, preventing any more civilian lives being put at risk.
"Have a good flight, constable," she said pleasantly, handing the man's documentation back before turning back to the van.
"Thanks," the officer replied before turning to step towards the plane, the pilots visible in the cockpit preparing for takeoff.
Dee and her team quickly clambered back into the van. As the last one in shut the doors, the van's engine started and it quickly sped away from the plane, which was starting to taxi towards the runway, the door with its built-in staircase closed and secured for takeoff.
As they roared out of the security check stop and back onto the road leading back into the city, Mordecai found himself looking up at Dee.
"It would appear that your extraction has worked flawlessly," he commented softly.
"We're not out of the woods yet," Dee replied just as softly, glancing forward through the grate at the highway visible through the windshield. "We still need to get back to the detachment and disperse." She glanced back at the big man, looking ruggedly efficient and grim in the special ops uniform he was wearing. "I'm just glad they didn't take a photo of you for identification purposes or this whole gig would've ended in abysmal failure."
"What happens after your team disperses?" Mordecai pressed.
Dee smiled tightly.
"I can't let you in on that, until my team is gone. I don't want them knowing material that would jeopardize their careers or their lives."
"And this little exercise hasn't?"
"No. As far as both central command and the local detachment are concerned, this was a legit operation. This was the legitimate transition team, assigned to transfer you from the hospital to the plane." She smiled tightly. "It's their job to make sure you remain safe until you impart to us the information you have, or testify against those responsible for the crimes that have rocked our city."
"And that includes switching me with a known felon on the basis that my life was in danger, if I remained in the RCMP's hands," Mordecai concluded for her, a tight smile of his own appearing on his lips. "I like that reasoning."
Dee's smile broadened slightly as she fell silent, turning to gaze out the grate once again. The reasoning was awfully convenient, all things considered. It didn't detract from the tenuous legal position of the operation, though. If any of them were caught, it would certainly mean jail time for hindering an investigation.
With that thought rumbling through her mind, Dee and the rest of the team, including Mordecai, remained silent as the van reached the city and carefully but speedily made its way through mid morning traffic towards the venerable old building that housed the Calgary detachment of the Mounties. The RCMP had been in the prairie city since it was nothing more than a gaggle of shacks surrounding Fort Calgary, back in the 1800's while Western Canada was being colonized.
Founded by Colonel Macleod of the North West Mounted Police, the precursors to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in 1875, Fort Calgary was built as an outpost and center of law enforcement in the relatively untamed west. After the outpost grew into a city, however, the original Fort Calgary fell into ruins as a new fort was erected to house a military base and the detachment was moved into different headquarters.
And then they were moved again as the city created its own law enforcement agency, downsizing as they lost responsibility of law enforcement in the city and were reduced to patrolling the surrounding countryside. They did, however, manage to find themselves in one of the oldest buildings in Calgary, the old Canada Post building, built around the time the city was originally incorporated in the early 1900's.
Some renovations and rebuilding and the building became the hub of RCMP activity in this part of the country. And it was to this building that Dee and her team were going.
With the soft whine of rubber stretching, the van turned a final corner and wheeled into the parking lot, making its way to the rear of the building where detachment parking was located. Finding an empty spot between two other vans looking exactly like the one he was driving, the driver eased the vehicle into the space before killing the engine.
"Here we are," Dee announced perfunctorily as she heard the engine die. Nodding, Davinder stood and led the way to the back just as the driver opened the doors. There, he turned and spoke over his shoulder.
"Good luck, Dee." He grinned brightly. "Remember to keep your head down."
"Will do, Davinder. Now get the rest of the team the hell out of here. I'll contact you when the coast is clear."
Davinder nodded and, with the rest of the team already waiting for him outside, he hopped out and led them out of sight. Mordecai then looked over at Dee.
"Are you going to clue me in now, constable?" he asked wryly.
"Not quite yet," Dee replied, digging a cell phone out of a utility pocket. She speed dialed a number before holding it to her ear. "Duffy. It's Dee. The first phase has gone completely without a hitch. I am now moving to stage two." And, with that, she turned the phone off before dropping it back into the pouch.
"Now it's our turn to go inside!"
"Inside?" Mordecai's eyebrow slowly rose as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I was under the assumption that the whole purpose of this little operation was to get me out of the RCMP's hands."
"So it was," Dee confirmed with a nod. "But now we have to solidify your new persona as an RCMP officer. And so we go in and make ourselves known."
Mordecai's eyes narrowed at that. The Normal woman obviously had a plan of sorts in place or this operation wouldn't have gone off without a hitch. But, burn him to ash, he wished she would clue him into what it was!
Dee stood and hopped out of the back of the van. There she paused for a moment before looking back at the reluctant Mordecai.
"Coming?" she asked perfunctorily. With a sigh, Mordecai nodded and standing swiftly made his way out of the van as well. Considering what the alternative was, it appeared as though he had little choice but to do so.
As soon as the big man's boots hit the worn pavement of the parking lot, Dee closed the door behind him and, without another word, led the way towards the side access door that granted entry into the building whose four storied squarish bulk now loomed over them. Of the rest of the team there was no sign.
Grimly Mordecai followed Dee to the door, where she paused to pull out a plastic card, which she then proceeded to swipe through a reader placed beside the door. The big man frowned and felt in the breast pocket beneath the Kevlar vest he was wearing, the same pocket that Dee had drawn her card from. And he felt a small surge of relief when he felt the rectangular flatness of a similar card there for him.
As the reader interpreted the data on the card's information strip, the lock to the door clicked open and Dee reached out with her right to pull the door open as she slipped her card back into her pocket with her left. Again Mordecai had no choice but to follow, feeling his entire body tense with anxiety as soon as he stepped across the threshold. This was the closest he had ever been to any sort of Normal law enforcement headquarters. And it was entirely too close to suit his comfort, if anybody wanted his opinion.
But Dee, apparently oblivious to the big man's discomfort wasn't about to ask him. In her mind she was quickly working through the schedule that she and Duffy had created for the operation, a schedule she had gone over for the thousandth time this morning over a jug of orange juice and a box of pop tarts.
To say things were complicated would've been a gross understatement. It had taken nearly three days of brainstorming to flesh out the exchange to obtain Mordecai and then another three to create the artificial persona that they were now using to cover their tracks. With her access codes and security clearance, Dee had re-entered the RCMP database and created Mordecai Kelly, a ten-year veteran with distinguished service overseas in various RCMP peacekeeping roles.
While Dee filled in the details of the new persona, Duffy had made contact with his former colleagues in Lyon, making sure that Interpol was aware of the fact that foreign nationals were at work on Canadian soil. It took only a couple of minutes before they were calling RCMP main headquarters in Ottawa to offer their services in assisting with the investigation. With Canada a member state in the Interpol organization, the RCMP's commissioner would've risked losing face if he refused such an offer.
So he didn't and, within the day, a handful of Interpol agents were making their way across the Atlantic towards Canada and a meeting with the new investigation's primary chase team, the unit responsible for on-the-ground investigations and isolation of physical evidence.
Again Duffy flexed his connective power and was able to put forward himself, Dee and the new constable, Mordecai Kelly as three liaison officers from both local law enforcement and the RCMP to bridge relations between the incoming Interpol agents and the incumbent RCMP officers involved in the investigation. Such was the legacy that he had left behind him at Interpol that, while he had left under dubious circumstances, Duffy's contacts didn't even hesitate to recommend him and his supposed colleagues as liaison officers.
Flushed with his success, which only added more fuel to his renewed enthusiasm, Duffy reported that as soon as the paperwork arrived, they were officially back on the case. Dee had felt a surge of satisfaction at that. Even with all of her maneuvering, Simpkins wouldn't get the last laugh on this thing. Dee and Duffy would.
Dee had then completed Mordecai's cover before she had picked up the phone to talk to Davinder. Now that the pieces were falling into place, it was time to assemble the team that would make Mordecai's extraction possible. Of course Davinder himself would be included, the Sikh constable above reproach yet possessing a deep loyalty to his long-time friend that he would do what needed to be done.
The rest of the team was assembled from a handful of officers that Davinder and Dee had gone through Depot with, including Elisa Chang, Morgan de Longhi and Marisa Belliveau. Each could be implicitly trusted with what Dee wanted to accomplish. As soon as Davinder got the word from Dee, he was on the phone, putting the team together.
That left only the actual authorization order that put Dee's team on the special ops assignment list for the transition team responsible for moving Mordecai from Foothills to Calgary International from where a RCMP plane would transfer him to Ottawa. Again Dee's CSIS access allowed her to penetrate the rostering system to insure that her team would come up on rotation to be given the assignment.
The rest of the time between the actual transfer, based on doctors' reports from Foothills and the final file doctoring was spent covering their tracks and staying as inconspicuous as possible. No use moving into the open where the Brotherhood no doubt was watching for somebody to make a mistake and leave Mordecai unguarded long enough for them to attempt to take him out again.
And so Duffy and Dee had waited and grimly watched as the streets of Calgary continue to throb with the underground war between the Brotherhood and the mysterious third party that had acted to save both Dee's and Mordecai's lives. At least, that's who Dee assumed was responsible for the seething violence that destroyed property and threatened innocent lives at an astounding pace while the Calgary police impotently looked on.
Of course with the RCMP investigation also bogged down, there was no force available to stop the destruction. Dee found herself literally grinding her teeth as she watched the city continue to spiral into chaos while she waited for the transfer to happen.
And then, almost coming upon them without warning, it was time. So Dee, Duffy and her team had swung into motion, appropriating vehicles, uniforms and equipment that would see them appropriately garbed for the task. Remarkably enough, it had actually worked. Mordecai was now in their hands.
But, it wasn't quite done yet.
Stepping through the door, the two found themselves in a relatively short hallway.
"This way," Dee muttered softly as she again took the lead. While she hadn't actually served any time with the Calgary detachment, she had taken plans and maps of the building to familiarize herself with the layout before they implemented their daring plan.
She quickly stepped down the length of the hallway before taking a hard right upon coming out into a small gathering area where a number of other constables in regular uniforms were either talking in small groups or were going over materials in their hands. They were waiting in front of a thick door with a small sign on it that read: 'Evidence Processing.'
The turn led the two down another short hallway to a set of stairs leading downstairs. Without hesitation, Dee started down. The staircase abruptly terminated at a heavy steel door after a flight, leaving the two staring at a large sign on the door: armory.
"We need to check these back in," Dee stated softly, giving her automatic rifle a pat with a gloved hand. "And then we can get on with the rest of the stage." Mordecai nodded in understanding as Dee tapped out a quick code on a number input pad set into the right hand wall. Her fingers almost danced over the touch-sensitive, recessed key points, flat numbered plates that didn't require moveable keys to work. The code done, Dee touched the 'enter' key point.
The pad acknowledged the code with a soft 'beep' before a panel slide out of the way to reveal a hand print plate for further identification confirmation. Dee tugged off her right glove and, again without hesitation, pressed her named palm against the slightly warm and softly glowing plate, matching her hand to the outlined hand print indicator on the plate.
There was soft flare of light as the plate made its scan. Then the door was unlocking with a harsh, metallic 'click' and Dee pushed it to the side to step into the heavily armored space beyond. This was the armory, the detachment's cache of weapons and ordinance that could be utilized at a moment's notice, if need be.
Once they stepped through the door, the two found themselves in a cubical room, uniform on every side, equipped with video cameras in every corner as well as IR and Ultrasound scanners for added security. The wall directly in front of them had a heavy armor glass window behind which they could see a constable sitting, watching a bank of monitors. Looking closely, Mordecai could see the two of them in three of the monitors, scanners slowly making their way over them, looking for anything out of place.
"What can we do for you, constables?" a voice spoke from a speaker set into the armor glass window.
"We need to check these rifles back in," Dee replied, unlooping her weapon's carrying strap from off her shoulder. A gesture to Mordecai got his in her hand as well and she stepped forward as a panel slide aside to the right of the window, revealing a weapon rack inside.
Dee carefully placed the two weapons in the two nearest slots before stepping back to let the panel close again. She could just hear the constable inside typing as he triggered another sensor in the weapon box to scan the two weapons.
"Right," the voice returned. "Two Colt RO733 Commandos, each with one 30 round clip included, no shells chambered and none expended from the clip. Signed out to Constables Tragedy McMaster and Mordecai Kelly for Special Ops transition assignment. Everything appears to be in order, constables. If you would please sign the release forms?"
A small panel at the bottom of the plate window moved and Dee and Mordecai's attention was drawn a metal drawer that began to slowly slide out towards them. Dee stepped forward and pulled two release forms from the drawer's interior, along with a pen. After handing one to Mordecai, she swiftly signed the one she had, complete with her name across the top and all relevant information and dropped it back into the drawer.
Mordecai, however, wasn't so quick to complete the form. He stared at it, letting his eyes trace over his assumed name and particulars. For all he knew, this could be an elaborate ruse to elicit information from him that he didn't want to give.
A snort from Dee drew the big man's attention to her. As his eyes panned across her face, her eyes widened with an unspoken question. In response, he directed a quick glance down at the release form and its telltale information. Her reply was a simple smile.
Mordecai could feel his jaw muscle clench tightly in reaction, his nostrils flaring the only visible sign of the turmoil surging through him at the uncertainty. Then, almost as if he were wielding the sword of fire that he defeated Ravage with, he pinned the form against the wall and scrawled out a quick signature, using his new name.
But, if the constable behind the armor glass window noticed anything out of place, he didn't say as he took the two forms that Dee passed back to him via the metal drawer. He simply looked the forms over and entered the information.
"We're done here," Dee said in a low voice and she turned back to the door leading out of the check out area.
It didn't take them long to return to the open area where they had made their first turn out of the hallway. Dee led Mordecai past the group of officers down another short hallway that terminated in a heavy metal grid wall, stretching from side to side and ceiling to roof, anchored by heavy bolts set deep into the reinforced concrete behind the paint. A locked door of the same stuff set roughly in the wall's center punctuated it. The grid was further protected by a sheet of armored glass attached to it, the door also carrying a sheet of armor glass of its own. A small sign set into the glass itself read: 'Physical Evidence Storage' in tiny white on black letters.
With a glance, a nod and a small smile at Mordecai over her shoulder, Dee stepped to the intercom unit set into the left-hand wall, connecting her to a constable sitting behind a desk just inside the armored door. She thumbed the unit on.
"It's Constables McMaster and Kelly, here to pick up special witness Mordecai's effects for transferal to Ottawa. I believe the paperwork should have cleared to you by now."
"It has, McMaster," a man's voice replied out of the intercom's tiny speaker. There was a soft buzz and, with a click, the door leading into the storage area popped open.
Pulling it the rest of the way open, Dee stepped through. And immediately she pulled up as a low series of chirps sounded as she passed through a metal detector's frame.
"Hold up a second, McMaster," the sergeant behind the desk indicated with a nod, a heavy-set man with florid features that looked more bored than attentive. "I have to account for your sidearms before you enter the storage area."
Dee nodded and came to a halt just inside the detector's frame and stood motionless as a red line, projected by a small scanning unit that traveled vertically up and down within the detector's frame, began to scan up along her side. The scanner, tuned to find the registration bar codes imprinted on each officer's sidearm, visible on the butt of the gun where it could be read, quickly found Dee's bar code and 'meeped' softly with satisfaction.
"You're cleared, McMaster," the sergeant said, looking up from his monitor and the results of the first scan to gaze at Mordecai's brooding features. "Your turn, Kelly."
With a quick look at Dee, who nodded almost imperceptibly, Mordecai stepped forward and paused within the detector's frame as it sounded the alarm at finding the Glock strapped to his waist. Again the red line marched up his body until it found the bar code attached to his weapon's stock. It scanned it and, upon finding a match with the database stored in its memory, it 'meeped' to clear him.
"You're cleared as well, Kelly," the sergeant verbally confirmed and, with a nod to the florid-faced man, Mordecai stepped out of the metal detector.
****