Free Deadline by Stephen Maher Page A

message from the application tracking the missing BlackBerry:
    He shut down the video, made a secure connection to his office network, and signed into the application. A map of Ottawa showed on the screen, and he zoomed in on a red dot until he placed it near the corner of Dalhousie and Murray streets, in the Byward Market. He quickly opened another window and looked up the location on Google Maps. It was Chez Lucien. He switched back to the tracking program and opened a window that showed the detailed tracking information. The phone had been reactivated three minutes ago, at 8:23 p.m., and had pinged several times from the same location.
    He picked up his own phone and booted up the little tracking program that he had written and installed as an overlay to Google Maps. It was working. The program showed a dot at the corner of Dalhousie and Murray.
    He sent a message.
     
    To: 74X93B4
    From: 58K42E6
    Subject: BB location
    The BlackBerry is now at the corner of Dalhousie and Murray. Looks like Chez Lucien, a pub. It was reactivated at 8:23 p.m. You should be able to track it if you open the program I sent you to install on your BlackBerry.
    He sat back and stared at the map on his computer, watching the little dot pulse every thirty seconds. In a few minutes, his BlackBerry buzzed.
     
    To: 58K42E6
    From: 74X93B4
    Subject: Re. BB location
    Roger that.
    Balfour sat back to watch the dot blink.

    Jack had just started to pee when the phone in the pocket of his suit coat buzzed. Without thinking, he grabbed it and answered.
    “Hello,” he said.
    “Hello,” said a woman’s voice. “Mr. Sawatski?”
    Jack recognized the voice. It was Ida Gushue.
    “No,” he said. “Is that Mrs. Gushue? It’s Jack Macdonald here. I’m afraid Ed’s had an accident. He’s been badly hurt.”
    “Oh my,” said Gushue. “What happened?”
    “It’s pretty serious,” said Jack. He’s in a coma. The police are investigating. They think someone may have tried to drown him.”
    “Oh my goodness,” said Gushue.
    Jack thought for a moment. “Is there any way there could be a connection between his call to you and what happened to him?”
    Gushue was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m wondering that myself now. My late husband was a member of the RCMP. I can’t think why Mr. Sawatski would be calling me unless it was related to my husband’s work.”
    “Mrs. Gushue, why don’t I come see you tomorrow and we can have a chat,” said Jack. “I’ll tell you what I know about the case. It might help you decide whether you should contact the police.”
    “I don’t want my name in the paper.”
    “No ma’am,” said Jack. “I promise not to put your name in the paper.”
    “All right then,” she said. “Call me tomorrow morning and see if I’ll have time to meet you in the afternoon.”
    As soon as he hung up, Ed’s phone rang again.
    “Hello,” said a man’s voice on the other end of the line. “Who’s speaking, please?”
    “Why?” Jack said. “Who’s this?”
    “This is Senior Agent Thomas Endicott of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service,” the man said. “I am investigating the disappearance of a BlackBerry belonging to the Government of Canada. This is a national security investigation. Please identify yourself.”
    Jack stammered, suddenly uneasy. He stalled. “Why don’t you give me your switchboard number, so I can be sure I know who I’m talking to.”
    “Sir, this is not a game,” said Endicott. “Please identify yourself immediately. You are in possession of a cell phone that is at the subject of a national security investigation. You need to identify yourself and arrange to hand it over to one of our agents in the area immediately. If you fail to co-operate, you are liable to prosecution under the anti-terror provisions of the Security of Information Act. It carries serious penalties – we’re talking about prison time – for obstructing a national security investigation. I ask you