“That covers a big area,” said Rubalcava. “The place will be heavily guarded. Other houses in the area will be owned by the cartel. For something as important as this, they won’t have guards who are asleep or drinking tequila under a tree. They will be professionals.” He glanced at Adams and said, “Perhaps even trained by your government.”

“I told Jack about the commandos we trained who were then bought out by the cartels,” said Adams ruefully.

Rubalcava looked at Jack and said, “So you realize how dangerous it will be. They will have a lot of security to ensure they are not being followed once you are picked up. With city traffic it would not take them long to spot us. Even if we succeeded, once they left the city … well, to follow you into a rural area would be a one-way trip. None of us would return.”

“Big Al was told not to take me there when it was dark,” noted Jack. “They don’t entirely trust me and are going to blindfold me … you’d think they would take me when it was dark. It would be even easier to see if someone was following.”

Adams looked at Jack and said, “You’re thinking of lights?”

“Exactly. Maybe an airport beacon or something. Perhaps a sign on a hotel roof in the distance. Something they don’t want me to see that could help pinpoint the location.”

Both Jack and Adams looked at Rubalcava. “I am sorry,” he said. “I can’t think of anything like that outside the … no, wait.” Rubalcava’s brow furrowed as he thought. “I just remembered. West of here is a radio tower that is only a few miles south of the border. The area has many hills, so perhaps the tower would be difficult to pick out against the background in the day, but at night is has a light on it to warn aircraft.”

“That gives us a direction,” said Jack.

“Possible direction,” corrected Adams.

“If we are able to locate Casa Blanca and Lily is still alive, how do we rescue her?” asked Jack, looking at Rubalcava. “Are there people you would trust to go in and do the job?”

“With what we are talking about, there is nobody I can really trust,” replied Rubalcava.

“If we arrest El Pero, Berto, and Eduardo tonight, maybe a trade could be negotiated?” suggested Jack.

Rubalcava sighed and said, “If we locate the tunnel, there will be no trade. For making such a mistake, the only reason the cartel would take them back would be to kill them.”

“Not such a bad thing,” said Jack, noticing a nod of agreement from Adams.

“There would also be no reason for the cartel to let Lily live,” noted Rubalcava. “In fact, her death may be long and painful out of revenge.”

“I take it they wouldn’t have to worry about being arrested if they did that,” said Jack bitterly.

“No. If political pressure was put on our government for her murder, then someone else would be framed and arrested for the crime. Perhaps someone who wasn’t even a criminal.”

“So what do we do?” asked Jack, aware that his feelings of optimism at what he thought he had accomplished had turned to frustration and despair. Peaks and valleys … always peaks and valleys …

“If we find the tunnel and you approach the Mexican authorities for help, there is a very real possibility someone involved in her rescue will have been bought off.”

“If we locate the tunnel, what about using it to conduct a raid from your side of the border?” asked Jack, looking at Adams.

“I was thinking the same thing myself,” replied Adams. “I think under the circumstances that might be the safest route to take.”

“That is a better idea,” said Rubalcava, “although I am sure the American end of the tunnel will be heavily guarded, as well. To get there in time to save her may be difficult, but it might still be the safer way to do it.”

“We have people trained for such matters,” replied Adams. “Although recon could take a day or two. It will have to be done properly so as not to alert the men at Casa Blanca before we reach it.”

Rubalcava smiled. “Of course you have men train-ed for these matters. The same ones who taught the commandos hired by the cartel. They might even know each other.”

“Don’t rub it in.” Adams scowled.

“So we won’t be doing any arrests at The Old Warehouse tonight,” noted Jack.

“Guess it depends on what you find out this afternoon,” said Adams. “There are thousands of bad guys — the important thing is to rescue the girl.”

“Definitely,” agreed Jack. “Besides, with luck I should be able to convince them to join me at The Old Warehouse a second time and make it coincide with when the raid does take place.”

Rubalcava glanced at his watch. “I should get to the office.” He looked at Adams and said, “Can you have your wife call me before lunch? Perhaps with the time needed, you should tell her that she wants to rendezvous with me for the whole afternoon.” Rubalcava grinned when he saw Jack give him a sideways glance and said, “It is not what it seems, I assure you.”

“Somehow, you two didn’t strike me as the type to be into wife-swapping,” replied Jack, giving a lopsided grin.

Rubalcava’s face became serious as he turned his attention back to Adams. “I will then join you and perhaps we can set up on the highway west of the city.” He looked at Jack and added, almost apologetically, “If we see Big Al’s SUV it may give us a general location of where you are going, but I know we will not be able to follow if he turns off the main highway. In that area there is a maze of dirt roads. There would be little traffic and the dust would announce the presence of any vehicle.”

“I understand,” replied Jack. “Big Al’s SUV is silver and El Pero’s is white. I suspect I will be riding with Big Al. If you do see us turn off, what with the time I have been given, I don’t think I should be gone much more than half an hour. If the roads are dusty, you may even have a general direction of where I am being taken.”

“Even if we do know where you’re at,” noted Adams, “I doubt we could ever get to you in time, even if we did know you were in trouble.”

“I’m aware of that,” replied Jack.

Adams and Rubalcava looked at each other and grimaced. The idea of standing by and not being able to save an officer in trouble would be a gut-wrenching experience.

chapter thirty-four

Despite the light rain in Vancouver, Jarvis was proud of the colours he had recently earned, making him a full member of Satans Wrath. He wanted everyone to see he was now sporting the full club logo on his back. As he pulled out of the compound of the west-side chapter clubhouse, his bare muscular arms, black with tattoos, gunned the engine of his Harley Davidson as he roared out on to the street.

Minutes later, a car with two men pulled alongside him and the passenger rolled down his window and gestured for him to pull over.

Jarvis pulled to the curb, but kept his bike running as the car double-parked beside him.

“Who the fuck are you two guys? Cops?” asked Jarvis.

“No,” said the passenger. “I’m Miguel and this is Ramiro. We need to talk to Señor Damien.”

“What are ya? Fuckin’ reporters? Talk to our media guy.”

“We’re not reporters. We have a very valuable gift for Señor Damien. It’s business. We need to meet him, but were warned the police could be watching your clubhouse.”

“If you’re in business with Damien, why don’t you call him yourself?” asked Jarvis as he looked around, wondering if the club was trying to test his response.

“We’ve never met him. We don’t have his number. We want you to call him.”

Jarvis hesitated about what to do. Although he had earned his full patch, he was not senior enough to ever be allowed to talk to the National President directly. “Tell ya what,” he replied. “I’ll take you to an alley where it is safe to talk. You wait there and I’ll go talk to someone.”