Deadline (17 page)

“
Christ, Braden, Katie
could be anywhere. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,”
said Andrew. “I feel so helpless just standing here.

He turned again to Moon. “Why didn’t
you cops give her protection? You knew she had been
threatened.”

“
Now calm down, sir,”
replied Moon. “I offered her a bodyguard, but you know Katie – so
fierce and independent – she turned it down. I can’t force it on
anyone.”

“
I’m sorry,” said Andrew.
“It’s just so frustrating thinking that animal has her and we are
so helpless.”

Moon touched Chase comfortingly on the
arm. “I’ve known Katie a long time, sir. She’s an extremely
resourceful and determined young lady. I think she is capable of
fending for herself. She’ll find a way of dealing with the
situation.”

Young called HR to ask for a list of
employees who finished shifts mid-afternoon. As he finished the
call, he noticed his voice-mail message light blinking. He entered
his code and listened.

It was Megan’s voice. He turned pale
as a ghost at the message he heard.

“
Oh, my God! No!” he
cried. “Please, Megan, don’t!”

Her message was one of
desperation.

It sounded like a final
goodbye.

Chapter 49

Peshawar, Pakistan 3:25
AM

``HAVE YOU decided to cooperate and
talk, Mr. Trevanian?”

Major Patel, from the Pakistani ISI,
stood directly at the end of Trevanian’s bed. He stared icily at
the journalist. His black, bushy eyebrows rose slightly giving his
visage a menacing look.

His colleague Amman stood next to him.
He didn’t look any more comforting. Both looked ready to kill if
necessary.

“
How many times do I have
to tell you? I have nothing to say,’ said Trevanian. “I can’t help
you. I am a Canadian journalist. Al-Qaida kidnapped me. I
interviewed a senior leader. That is all. They were taking me back
to Peshawar to file my story when we ran afoul of your checkpoint.
You know my name. Call my paper, the Toronto Daily Express, to
check if you don’t believe me.”

“
Unacceptable answers, Mr.
Trevanian. You may be a journalist, perhaps not. But I think you
know more than you are telling us. What mission were your friends
on in Pakistan?”

“
There’s simply no point
in talking to you people,” said Trevanian with deep defiance in his
voice. “You obviously aren’t prepared to listen to anything I say.
I have no further comment until I speak with someone from the
consulate.”

“
Well, it is most
unfortunate that you refuse to cooperate. Perhaps your tongue will
get looser when we get you to our interrogation room.” Patel moved
closer to the bed and unlocked the handcuffs.

Amman moved to the other side of the
bed and both men firmly grasped Trevanian’s arms, lifting him from
the bed.

“
The doctors say you only
have a mild concussion. You must come with us for further
interrogation,” said Patel.

“
You have no right to do
this. I demand to speak to the Canadian consulate,” said
Trevanian.

“
Shut up you insolent
dog,” spat Amman who whipped the back of his hand across
Trevanian’s face. “You have no rights in this country!”

“
My colleague is correct,
Mr. Trevanian,” said Patel. “You are illegally here in Pakistan in
the company of known terrorists. We have every right to have you in
custody and to further interrogate you. And believe me when I tell
you that our methods are very persuasive. You had better start
talking or you will have much more to worry about than a simple
concussion, my friend.”

Chapter 50

The Wolfman’s Lair 5:35
PM

KATIE CANNON was ravenously hungry.
She devoured all the food the Wolfman brought her on the
tray.

Despite the nauseating sight of his
‘trophies’, she managed to eat and keep the food down. After she
had finished the ham sandwich and the apple, she washed it down
with the glass of milk.

She needed to keep her strength up if
she was going to get out of here alive.

McDonald had put the box with its
hideous souvenirs back in the cupboard over the workbench. Katie
wondered if he kept any other horrible trophies from his victims in
there.

Would she soon be joining them? She
felt a chill up her spine at the thought. Not if I can bloody help
it, she thought.

He had taken her mobile phone along
with her purse and anything that she might have found useful in her
cell. There was nothing to do but wait.

Katie didn’t have long to wait. The
door opened slowly and the Wolfman entered the room.

Katie saw him slowly approach her
cell. She had a sudden intake of breath as she noticed him carrying
a large hunting knife in his right hand. It was a Selway with a
6-inch stainless steel blade.

It was a menacing sight to Katie as
McDonald drew nearer.

“
Time to party, Katie,”
said McDonald, a leering grin on his face.

She heard the key enter the lock and
the tumblers turn. Katie braced herself, sitting on the edge of the
cot.

“
Hi, Ian. If you want to
party, you don’t need your friend there,” said Katie. “I won’t
struggle. Surely it will be better for you if I cooperate
willingly. After all, you’re not an unattractive man.”

Katie had to fight back the rising
nausea as she spoke these words. She needed to play along with him
so he would let down his guard. Hopefully, an opportunity would
present itself.

She must buy herself some time. Time
would be her ally.

McDonald paused for a second. He
seemed taken aback by Katie’s apparent willing cooperation. She did
not appear to be afraid like the others. She seemed almost to
welcome his attention.

“
Bitch, don’t try to make
out you’re my friend. What’s your game? What are you trying to
do?”

“
It’s no game, Ian. Since
I’m your prisoner, I might as well sit back and enjoy it.” She
reached out and gently grabbed his left arm. She pulled him toward
her invitingly.

He reacted to her caress and let
himself be guided toward her. She pushed her face forward and
kissed him on the cheek, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

McDonald lifted up the knife. The
blade sliced the buttons slowly on Katie’s blouse. She wriggled
loose of the blouse, letting it fall on the cot. She wore a black,
filmy bra. She kissed him more passionately and could feel him
becoming aroused.

His lips moved feverishly over her
face and neck. He gripped her tightly against his body and fumbled
for the hook on the back of the bra. He found it and unclipped it.
The bra fell away unleashing her breasts, like smooth
melons.

McDonald groaned, roughly cupping them
with his hands. He kissed them. His grip on the knife started to
loosen as his passion grew.

Then Katie made her move.

She brought her knee up sharply,
smashing it into his groin. She twisted sideways and grasped the
knife from his fingers.

“
Take this, you sick
bastard!”

She plunged the knife toward his
chest.

McDonald instinctively raised his left
arm to fend off the blow and the knife slashed across his arm.
Blood bubbled to the surface, some of it smearing onto
Katie.

The Wolfman’s other arm lashed out,
gripping her wrist with the knife. He twisted sharply. Katie felt a
searing pain shooting up her arm.

She thought her wrist was broken. The
knife fell onto the cot.

The Wolfman raised his bloody left arm
and slapped her across the face.

“
You fucking whore,” he
screamed. “You cut me.”

“
I wish I could cut your
balls off, you sick fuck,” Katie screamed back defiantly. She had
taken her chance and failed. She knew now she was dead.

McDonald grabbed the hunting knife and
jammed the blade against her throat. She could feel the cold blade
against her skin. She felt a small prick from the cold steel. She
felt some drops of blood.

“
I should cut your fucking
throat now. But it’s too quick for you. I’m not finished with you
yet. I am going to make you suffer even more before I’m done with
you, Katie Cannon.”

Chapter 51

Daily Express Newsroom 5:50
PM

BRADEN YOUNG`S office was a hive of
activity.

Gathered there were Young, Andrew
Chase, Detective Peter Moon and CID officer Brian Savage. They
conferred over a list of newspaper employees who went off duty
about 3 p.m., the time of Katie Cannon’s sudden
disappearance.

There were 20 names alphabetically
placed on the list. Ian McDonald’s name was twelfth.

“
Here’s your list,” Young
told Moon. “It also includes home addresses.”

“
Right, we’ll start
checking these out straight away,” said Moon taking the list.
“We’ll start paying all of these people a visit. Hopefully
something pays off. You never know. The Wolfman must be one of
these 20. I see seven of them are women, so I think we can rule
them out right away. We’d be better off concentrating on the 13 men
as suspects.”

“
Is there anything we can
do to assist you, Inspector?” inquired Chase. “I feel so helpless
standing here while Katie is in potential danger.”

“
No, it’s a police matter,
Mr. Chase. Leave it to us we’ll get back to you if we feel we need
any more help from the paper.”

Young rose to his feet. “I’ll leave it
to you gentlemen. I have to excuse myself. I’m afraid I have a
rather urgent personal matter to attend to.”

Braden strode out of his office. Not a
man who easily panicked. He felt a sense of panic now after his
daughter’s phone message. She sounded desperate and God knows what
she might do out of desperation.

But he didn’t know where to start.
Where could she be?

His only clue was that slime ball ex
of hers. Megan said he was staying at the Westin. That was as good
a place to start as anywhere.

He planned to pay a call on Dennis
Dean.

And the jerk had better provide some
answers.

Chapter 52

ISI Headquarters Peshawar
4:17 AM

TREVOR TREVANIAN sat strapped to a
wooden chair in the centre of a stark, barren room.

A single light bulb glared overhead.
There were bars on the windows with thick glass. Obviously the room
was soundproofed to cover the screams of the souls tormented in
this place.

Trevanian wondered how many people had
been tortured within these walls. The concrete floor showed
bloodstains that had been scrubbed, but traces faintly
remained.

To his left was a bucket. To the right
sat a small wooden table with various instruments laid out on it.
It looked like a crude dentist’s office. There were pliers, sharp
scalpels, and a device with a sharp hook at the end.

Trevanian tried not to imagine what
their possible use could be. There was also an eight-inch rubber
hose nearby.

Patel and Amman stood in front of
him.

Both men had their jackets off. They
wore dark-colored short-sleeved shirts, better for not showing any
bloodstains. They appeared eager to get to work.

Patel leaned toward him.

“
Now, Mr. Trevanian. For
one last time I will ask you to talk voluntarily about what you and
your colleagues were planning in Pakistan. Believe me you will talk
eventually. The only question is how long and how much pain you
want to endure in the process.”

“
I’ve already told you the
circumstances of why I am in Pakistan,” said Trevanian. “I am a
journalist. I was kidnapped. I interviewed an al-Qaida leader. You
can torture me all you want and the story won’t change because it
is the truth. Perhaps you should concentrate your efforts on
cleaning out the real terrorist groups in the tribal areas that are
causing hardship in Afghanistan and your own country.”

Patel lashed out with his hand and
delivered a stinging slap to Trevanian’s face.

“
Enough of your insolence,
dog. I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job properly. I will
expect you to tell me the location of the camp your colleagues took
you to.”

Patel turned to the table and picked
up a set of pliers. “Perhaps I will start with extracting your
fingernails. That should loosen your tongue.”

Just as Patel lifted Trevanian’s left
hand, the door to the room opened. A uniformed man entered and
sharply uttered words in Pashto.

Patel dropped the utensil on the table
and quickly left the room.

There were several minutes of
silence.

Trevanian was trussed up like a turkey
ready for the sacrifice. Amman stood there watching him stoically.
Not a word. Not an expression on his stone-like face.

The journalist could only anticipate
what horrors lie ahead for him. You’ve really got yourself in a
mess this time, Ollie, he thought.