One of my lost souls was particularly resistant – even to the point of threatening me with violence if I continued to preach to him. My father was very firm about the evil of violence and denied us the right to practice it. However that didn't mean that I had to put up with it. "The body of the preacher is sacred," my father told his flock repeatedly. "To violate that body is to violate the body of God. God will act through the preacher to cut off that violent hand."
I knew that I was not required to actually cut of the hand of my lost soul. But, I wasn't sure exactly how I should act. Since I always followed my father's scriptures, I could not use violence. So I decided to let God decide the fate of my lost soul. I took him to a particularly dangerous part of Hell, a pitch-black place where it was possible to fall into its flames. After securing his hands behind his back, I told him that God would save him if he were worth saving. If he weren't, God would make that decision too. I offered a prayer of repentance and the man tried to head-butt me. I came back several days later and he wasn't there. Nobody missed him or asked about him. Accidents happened all the time in the bowels of our part of Hell.
In time, as I administered to my lost souls and increasingly left their fate for God to decide, the savages began to fear me. I saw this as a good thing. Acting as I did as the face of God, it was right for the damned to fear their maker. After some months, when my brother suggested that fewer savages should be shown their way to their salvation, I ignored him. That was my pride talking and that is the one part of my life for which I feel shame. A few weeks later, both my brother and I were transferred to the RCMP and we were given joint responsibility for a small outpost in the interior of B.C.
I embraced the change, anxious as I was now to extend my missionary work. As the sole representatives of the law in the communities we served, my brother and I did not have to suffer the oversight of superiors who might not appreciate our work. By now, I had learned that men who refused to be saved would continue to refuse no matter how hard I tried. But the females were less rigid. I had reached the age where I was ready to start my own family or, in the words of my father, to go out and replenish the family.
Frequently savage women would be brought to our cells for temporary periods. I took the opportunity to offer these women the opportunity to be part of my family. As my wives, they would be expected to replenish my family, of course. I believe that I made that expectation abundantly clear as well as the rewards they would receive from living a woman's fulfilled life. But I met resistance. Since they were savages, they were fallen women who could never hope to become part of what my father referred to as the clean, civilized world. Yet as I met with them, and extended my hands of husbandly favour, they inexplicably fought back, pushing away my hands.
My father had met resistance from a few of his wives, as I had personally witnessed. I acted as he would have. I incarcerated them in a place of darkness and silence where they could consider the errors of their ways. With my father, that had meant placing them inside an outhouse and locking the door for several days. However I had no such place at my disposal, but made do as best as I could. To my dismay, since the savages were only in my custody for a limited time, my husbandly discipline was not receiving the time it needed to work. I was losing my prospective brides before they could realize the error of their ways. However I noticed that none of those women ever reappeared in our detachment's cells. Although this meant that I could not continue my efforts towards their salvation, I took solace in the fact that they had been cured of their wicked ways.
Although I was disappointed that I was making no progress in replenishing my father's family, I did have a sense of relief. I had harboured some feelings of apprehension about lying with the heathen. My father's book was unclear on that. It said that we must never break bread with them; it had nothing to say about lying with them and replenishing the family. My father had always replenished the family from within the family, so he had never faced the challenges of creating a family from heathen stock, let alone heathen savage stock. I take some pride in the fact that during my lifetime I have never broken bread with any heathen of any gender or race unless I was forced to through business. I enter this next phase of my life now – content in the knowledge that I am pure and deserving of the rewards I will soon receive.
Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 27
Monday, March 5, day 3 of Will and Izzy's disappearance.
Izzy had had plenty of time to reconnoiter her surroundings. Her cell was about two paces square. Nothing except the toilet handle, her sleeping pad, and her blanket could be moved. Not the long iron bars, not the locked door, and certainly not the rock walls, floor, and ceiling. She was in a cell block of some kind. It was impossible to determine how many cells were in the block as her view did not extend very far. She was sure that nobody was in a cell within hearing distance. She kept calling Will's name in the hopes that he had been sedated too and hadn't yet awoken. No response. She was sure about the sedation. The last thing she could remember was FF slapping her on the shoulder and the stab of pain that she had felt as she climbed into the military copter. She remembered that Will received a similar hearty slap as well.
Izzy's Zorro boots were off but lying on the cell floor. The rest of her clothing had probably been searched as well. That left her with a creepy feeling. Apparently, Zorro-wear was all the rage in B.C. now and both men and women were wearing the knee high boots. She had been assured that the Wilizy would receive more publicity for the WZBN if they both dressed up as Zorro. Neither was particularly happy about that, but they eventually agreed to the costumes. Izzy had refused to carry the fake sword.
Izzy felt in the pockets of her black satin trousers – apparently the female Zorro that roamed the villages of Southern California had access to satin and liked to wear the pants very, very tight. Will had been given looser fitting black corduroy. With the pockets in the satin pants being too tight to use, Izzy had come to Surrey with only two things on her person – the foiled six-pack of protection and the silver locket around her neck. With Zzyk's shiny brain-band now securely fastened around her head, she concluded that he had engineered her capture. She was in an underground DPS prison somewhere in Alberta. Izzy spent some time wondering, but not reaching an answer to the question, Why'd they leave me with the birth control protection?
# # # # # # # #
The Wilizy task force trooped back to the ship at nightfall, exhausted by a long day. The first order of business was to eat and relax. Granny called Lucas while she was munching on her meal, so it was natural for her to start the conversation on that topic.
"Hi, Lucas. What's for supper?"
"Granny, we're not eating supper."
"Why not? You should make sure the boys are well fed, Captain. Part of your duty you know."
"Granny, we're ready to eat lunch."
This prompted a quick lesson on time-zones. They found that the sun was setting in Surrey but it was high overhead in North Korea. After some initial confusion, everything was straightened away. It was agreed that Granny would contact Lucas between 7 p.m. and 8 p.m. B.C. time. This would make it about noon in North Korea the next day. If Lucas had an emergency, he should call any time; otherwise he could wait for Granny's daily call.
Lucas asked if they had found Will and Izzy yet, and that took up the rest of the conversation. Granny never did ask Lucas what the boys had done that day or even what they had eaten.
After supper, Hank convened the meeting and asked for reports from all of the groups.
Doc said that he would start because he expected that he and Granny had the least to say. They had met with the military's head doctor, who gave them Franklin's health records, and then when they were ready, he brought in the doctor who had seen Franklin most recently. The records showed absolutely nothing that would suggest that Franklin was near to death or that he might believe that he was near to death. Franklin's most recent visit to the clinic had been back in Septe
mber. He had asked his doctor for something that would turn his skin gray, informing him that it was part of an official operation and to not bother asking any questions. The doctor prescribed something that he could drink that would make him nauseous, but would provide the necessary skin colour. He should take it an hour before he wanted the effect; the nausea and skin colour would disappear in 6 hours. The bottle held 15 doses. Franklin did not return for a refill.
Doc and Granny had spent the rest of the day interviewing anyone in the clinic who had ever seen Franklin. Nobody had anything to offer. Other than seeing him in their official capacity, they had never socialized with him. While he was in the clinic, Franklin barely communicated with them at all. In the waiting room, he sat alone, staring into space. Granny said that the people they talked to had no reservations in answering their questions. She sensed nothing from them that should cause the task force alarm.
"This is a dead end," Doc said. Mac can reassign us to another group.
# # # # # # # #
Yolanda wanted to report next so that she could put Winnie to bed. She said that the military had spent the entire day in Franklin's condo building in southern Surrey – a neighbourhood called White Rock. Befitting his high position within the provincial government, his condo was in an impressive building facing the waterfront. From what she could see from the hallway door, the military searchers had not spared any effort in their search. She'd be given access to his two-bedroom condo tomorrow if she wanted to root through the rubble of what had been Franklin's possessions. Yolanda wasn't sure if that would be worth the effort. Instead she and Winnie might begin interviewing other residents in the building. She could use some additional people to check the neighbourhood. Where did he buy his food? Did he eat at home or in restaurants? What did he do in his spare time?
"Did his guard detail give you any leads?" Hank asked. For those readers interested in such details, those eight words were the only words that Hank said to Yolanda that evening. If you're keeping score, Yolanda's words to Hank that evening totaled zero.
Yolanda ignored Hank's question, her eyes on Winnie and her voice directed to the group. "Winnie and I interviewed the members of the guard detail on the beach in front of his building. I asked them for anything that they could tell us about the man. It was reasonably warm and Winnie was lying behind a big log that protected her from the breeze coming off the water. Plus she had been huddled up inside a Patella blanket the whole time. Did you sense any lies from those soldiers, Sweetie?"
"No, Mommy. They were all telling the truth." Winnie was lying on a pad in the ship's living room, again underneath a Patella blanket.
"Only a limited number of soldiers served on the detail. They'd pick him up in the morning, take him back at night, and make sure nobody was in the condo waiting for him. They would walk through the rooms to confirm that, but they couldn't remember anything of a personal nature that he had left out in the open. Franklin rarely spoke to them other than to instruct them about changes in his schedule."
"The building supposedly has high security electronic surveillance – TG might be the best person to look at that. There's also a full time houseman at the front door. I expect that the building has a lot of wealthy inhabitants. It certainly looks like an expensive place to live and the location is wonderful. Franklin's condo is on the fourth floor looking out south-west to the ocean. The building has eight floors."
"Winnie and I finished our interviews late in the morning, and we spent the afternoon walking along the beaches. You can walk all the way around the point at Crescent Beach, but we stopped there and had a lunch of fish and chips. We took our time walking back. Collected sea shells. Made some sand castles. Winnie had a very peaceful and relaxing time."
"Since this operation looks like it may take a few more days, I'd like to suggest that we have our meetings in the community hall back home from now on. It will be easier to prepare meals and it will be more comfortable for the meetings. It doesn't take much more time to commute. It would do us all some good to sleep in our own beds, I believe." Yolanda was staring at Winnie the whole time she was talking. "Perhaps some of us could maintain a watch in the Wilizy in case Zzyk becomes ambitious."
Doc picked up on Yolanda's real intentions first. "Excellent suggestion. I find it hard to sleep aboard." Murmurs of agreement followed. Winnie didn't have her thumb in her mouth yet, but it was close.
"Come on, Sweetie. You helped me give our report. Let's put you to bed now. Patella is allowed to sleep with you in your hammock and when we get home she can sleep on top of your bedspread."
When Yolanda returned, she stopped any imminent questions about Winnie's condition by zipping two fingers across her lips and pointing at a nearby vent. During her short absence, Mac had volunteered to stay on the ship the whole time that the operation was underway. From there she could coordinate with the B.C. military. Wolf said that it was probably his duty to stay on the ship too in his position of managing the Wilizy's offensive operations.
# # # # # # # #
Yollie and TG's task was to interview people who worked closely with FF to see if they could provide any insight. TG said that nobody could give even a single example of a personal interaction with FF that wasn't business. His instructions to them were always succinct and brief. FF made no personal comments to his staff and cut off any that were attempted from his staff. One woman said that she had the feeling that he thought she was beneath him, but couldn't back that up with an example. Naturally, if Franklin didn't interact with staff during business hours, he wouldn't interact with them afterwards either. He didn't eat lunch with his subordinates or even with those equal in rank.
Yollie said that she had no sense of anything being held back from the staff or any of the information being coloured in either a positive or negative manner. Franklin was their boss; nothing more, nothing less.
# # # # # # # #
Mac had assigned Wizard and Wolf to check into Franklin's financial records. "He has only one bank account that I've been able to find," Wizard began. "It's in the bank where his salary is deposited. That's also the bank that deducts the rent for his condo. He's been living in this condo for about twenty years. I have no information on where he lived before that."
"I was given his bank records going all the way back to his first pay cheque after he was transferred from the RCMP and into the government. I saw nothing unusual in these records, other than he had removed all of his money from the account over the last two weeks. Nobody in the bank noticed it. No reason to expect them to. This is a very big bank. Franklin would have been an anonymous patron because all of the transactions into and out of his account were electronic. The only deposit ever made into the account came from the government. I saw payments made to purchase new copters on a regular basis, maintenance on the copter he owned, a cleaning service for his condo, a fair amount for restaurants but that is in total only. I never saw any food bill that would have exceeded the cost for one diner. Nothing untoward ever happened in that account except the way he emptied it."
"I made a query to government payroll and determined that Franklin was entitled to a pension on retirement and, as part of the pension, he would live in his condo rent free for the rest of his life. It looks like his condo is actually owned by the government and the payments they were taking off his salary were subsidized rent. I saw no point in pursuing this."
"The total amount that Franklin withdrew amounted to a tidy sum. A secure but not extravagant life style was awaiting him in five years when he entered retirement. He appeared to be a man who watched his money carefully and had few expenses other than the normal living costs. He'd be comfortable in his retirement, but that's all."
Wolf took over. "I had extensive military help in my search for any other bank accounts or safety deposit boxes that Franklin might have had. Every financial institution in the Surrey area received a visit from a ranking military officer who requested a meeting with the manager of the bank. If the man
ager showed any hesitation to search their records, the officer would show him a letter that would change that reaction immediately. I sat in on some of the interviews. I found no indication that Franklin banked anywhere else but at this one institution."
"What about surrounding areas?" Hank asked.
"Most of Surrey's banking needs are provided by a few major banks. The head offices of those banks were very cooperative in extending their searches throughout the province. No record of another Franklin Franklin account was found. Other Franklin accounts, yes, but lots of people have that surname. We may have missed a few very small institutions in this first sweep, but the military are going to take care of that possibility tomorrow."
"Safety deposit boxes?" Wizard asked.
"Included in our searches," Wolf replied.
"Could he have used an alias?" Hank asked.
"Yes, but I don't know how we can find him if he did." Wolf responded.
"Take a picture around to every bank?" Granny suggested.
"B.C. allows bank accounts to be opened electronically," Wizard replied. "No personal contact is needed to open an account."
# # # # # # # #
Hank took his turn next.
"Since Wolf mentioned Franklin's transfer from the RCMP to Surrey, let me tell you what I already know and what else I have been able to find out about his career. Franklin was my commanding officer in my first job with the RCMP. As part of the battles before the establishment of the Aboriginal Nation, he was transferred to Surrey. He and I continued to work together but Franklin's role was purely to provide logistical support for an operation that I was on. Most of his time was spent on the committee tasked with defending B.C. from Alberta."
"During his career, Franklin advanced from being a junior member on the B.C./Alberta committee to being its chair. Zzyk would have seen him as a significant obstacle that kept re-appearing over the years to thwart his plans. That was especially the case when Franklin recently negotiated our acquisition of the five parcels of Albertan land. Izzy mentioned to Yollie that one of Zzyk's sleepers had made an attempt on his life, but had been captured somehow."