PART III - Chapter 11: LEGIONNAIRES CODE NUMBER 6

Chapter 11

Legionnaires Code Number 6
(Ó 2010)

　

Logan had left his apartment … forever. As he stepped through the gateway of his apartment building he stole a quick glance down his street to the direction where he saw the two men in the Ford Taurus a few hours before. It was not there. He then proceeded as he did every morning to the “L” station where the train would take him to his office for what would be the final time. This time though he was taking the earliest train, he had to get to his office before anyone else did, to retrieve the bag he had hidden in his locker.

He was wearing a special pair of sunglasses that he saw advertised on television. They were made with a built-in hidden side mirrors, so that the person wearing them could actually see what and who was behind them. Logan used them to periodically check behind him to see if he was being watched or followed.

While on the train he sat with his briefcase on his lap, using it to support his hands like a make shift desk. In his hands he held a copy of that mornings Chicago Sun-Times. He was pretending to read it, while in actuality, he kept scanning the room with his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. Watching everyone else who came on the train, to see if anyone of them were watching him, using the side mirrors to see behind him. Inside of the briefcase he had all his surveillance equipment, the two handwritten letters, the lap top computer, the valet case, and the portrait of Lily, along with a few more personal items.

He saw nothing that made him suspicious throughout the whole trip to his stop. He kept watching and scanning as he left his train, he continued to do so as he walked the distance to The Bank of Paris Chicago headquarters on LaSalle Street. There he entered the building unnoticed. It was very early, and none of the other people who come to there offices here were arriving yet. Logan took the elevator down to his subterranean office that was on the first level below the building. Once he left the elevator and saw that he was indeed the only person on the floor, he quickly stepped to his office.

Upon entering his office he then immediately shut the door behind him, turned on the light and placed his briefcase on his desk. He took his keys of his coat pocket and went to his closet. There inside was a standing locker with a large Master Lock. He unlocked it, opened the locker, and took out the plastic garbage bag from the top shelf. Logan then began to undress. As he did so, he folded and compressed each item of his clothing and placed them in the bag. Everything, his trousers, suit coat, shirt, tie, shoes, socks, and overcoat. Once all items were inside the bag, he pulled the tie strings, then pushed out all the air inside, then tied the bag closed tightly. Everything inside was compressed down to a small enough size for Logan to later quickly dispose of.

He then reached for the hangar on the right side that held a pair of dark gray corduroy trousers with a black belt and put them on. He then retrieved a black mock turtle sweater that was folded on a shelf and also put that on. At the bottom of the locker was a pair of thick black socks, next to them a pair of black suede casual shoes which Logan too quickly put on. Finally, hanging next to where the trousers were was a black leather jacket, and on a hook on the door was a winter cap. Logan then put them on.

On the left side of the locker, standing up in its side, was a large canvas satchel type traveling bag. Logan pulled it out, set it on top of the desk and unzipped it open. Inside was all tropical weight clothing, light weight trousers, shorts, shoes, sandals, and shirts. Along with a toiletry kit. There was a zip pouch on the left side, Logan zipped it opened and pulled out the two envelopes inside. The first envelope had five thousand dollars in Canadian currency, the second had ten thousand in American dollars. Logan took out five American one hundred dollar bills and replaced the envelopes.

He then opened his briefcase. He took out the portrait of Lily and placed it in the traveling bag between the clothing. He looked on his desk and took the small portrait of Lily and placed it too in the bag. The lap top computer was next to be packed. Logan then took the valet case and re-inspected it for all the contents. Inside were his French passport, contact book, European credit cards, phone cards, and the card that held the special phone number, … for ex-Legionnaires. He placed that in the inside breast pocket of his jacket.

Lastly, he placed the monocular, the portable amplifier, and the other surveillance devices on top of the clothing so that they could be easily accessible to him. The other personal items were placed in the bag, and he zipped it closed. All that remained in his briefcase was the empty bags from the fast food restaurants, and the two handwritten letters. He folded the bags neatly and tightly, then put them in the side pocket of his jacket. The letter for Josephine was still attached to the legal pad. The other letter was in an envelope that Logan placed in the top center drawer of his desk.

Logan then took the empty briefcase and placed it in the locker where he then closed it, replaced the Master Lock, locked it, and shut the closet door. He picked up the travel bag, un-slung the shoulder strap and secured it on his left shoulder. He then looked to his watch. Five minutes, it all just took five minutes, just like he planned and rehearsed over and over again through the past few years. He picked up the garbage bag with his other clothes in his left hand, and grabbed the legal pad with the letter to Josephine in his right.

He then stepped to the door, he turned, faced the inside of his office, and looked at it for the last time. He shut off the light and closed the door. He then quickly stepped over to Josephine’s office just a couple of doors down. He open the door, stepped into the dark room, and left the letter on her desk. He then went back to the door, turned, looked at the letter on her desk and spoke for the first time ever in the offices with his natural American accent as he said, “Good-Bye, Jo-Jo. It was wonderful knowing you.” It was also the first time he referred to her as “Jo-Jo”, everyone else did except he … he always preferred calling her formally as Josephine, in his French accent. Jo-Jo liked that very much.

Logan then briskly walked to the end of the hallway and turned right. He proceeded to the end of that corridor where there was a doorway to the stairwell. He stepped inside and went up one flight where there was a receiving room for the bank; he looked inside and saw that no one was there. He stepped quickly over to a security door that led out to the alleyway. Since Logan was the security officer for the bank, he had a set of keys for this door. He opened it, stepped out into the alley, and let the door close behind him. He heard it as it re-locked itself.

He first pressed himself against the wall. He then looked to his left, and saw no one there, then he looked to the right, all was clear that direction also. He then turned to the left, and began to walk normally. There was a storm drain some twenty feet up as he walked, there he dropped the keys to the Master Lock of his locker, as well as the keys to the door that he had just stepped through. He heard them as fell into the water some ten feet down. As he proceeded he went to the third large garbage dumpster down, and threw in the plastic bag that contained his clothing.

He soon came to the end of the alley, where he stepped out onto the sidewalk of Randolph Street, turned west and blended in with the morning pedestrian crowd. He picked up his pace somewhat and headed for Wacker Drive. There he would proceed south, towards the Sears Tower, where he would turn west again to Union Station.

Once he reached Union Station he looked at his watch, it was now just passed 7:00 AM, he now was starting to cut it close, he hoped that there would be no line at the ticket counter. Fortunately, the lines were somewhat short and in the line he chose, he only had three people ahead of him.

When he did finally get to the ticket counter, he spoke for the first time since his return to America to someone else with his natural American accent. (That is … not counting his targets).

“Good Mornin’ miss,” he said to the middle aged Hispanic woman clerk, “can you tell me when the next train to Detroit leaves?”

She looked up to the clock on the wall behind Logan and said, “Yes, the ‘Wolverine’ will be leaving in less than an hour.”

“The Wolverine? Like in the Michigan Wolverines?”

“That’s the one.”

“Less than an hour? Great. That is if there are still seats.”

“Oh dun worry, there’s plenty.”

“Great, I’ll take a one way then.”

“That will be,” the clerk said as she rang up the ticket, “Thirty five dollars.”

Logan reached for his wallet, gave the woman exact change, and she gave him the ticket. “It will be leaving on track eight.”

“Thank you very much miss.” Logan said. He picked up his bag and went to track eight. 

There, standing at the entryway of track eight were some conductors. Logan went to them and asked, “Is this the train for Detroit?”

“Yes, sir,” The older of the men answered, “this is the Wolverine.”

“Is it okay if I board now?”

“No problem sir, go right ahead.”

“Thank you.” Logan said, and he stepped into the train corridor where the smell of diesel fuel and the loud rumble from the idling train engines filled the air. He stepped down to the middle cars of the train, and boarded. Once on, the noise level dropped considerably and well as the smell of the diesel fumes.

He sat in a seat next to the window on the left side of the car and placed his bag underneath his seat. He was alone in the car … for now. He sat back and tried to relax. He felt that he would begin to relax somewhat when the train started moving and then was a few miles away from the city. However, he would not totally relax until he was in Detroit, then crossed into ‘Grandmother’s Land’ .

He felt some of the tension in his body ease, but he kept looking around for any signs of being followed or watched. As he sat and waited, his memory then started to go back. Back to Paris, back to the next morning. The morning after he saw Lily. Of how he could not go back to see her that next night, as he told her he would - - -

- - - The next morning when he awoke, he felt both drained on one side, and full of anticipation on the other. Drained because of the memory of Caesar’s death had made him again break down and cry like a baby until he went to sleep. Anticipation, because he was going to see Lily again tonight, and tonight he would tell her everything about him. About his job, that he really lives in Paris, and hope she would understand why he had to deceive her.

He arrived at the police headquarters early to find Jean-Luc waiting for him, he smiled and said, “Ah Logan, you are here early, that is very good. Captain Thiebulet wants to see the both us in his office as soon as you arrived.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Would I be smiling like this if there were something wrong? Come on, I think that you are going to like this very much.”

Jean-Luc and Logan went out to the hallway and to the elevator. Jean-Luc pressed the button for the floor to the Captains office, the doors closed and both men felt the elevator going up.

“So, Logan,” Jean-Luc said, “did you have the chance to see your real pretty, real girl last night?”

“As a matter of fact I did.” Logan said and smiled, “I had to go back to Le Club Argenté D'oiseau though to do so.”

“You like this girl, yes?”

“Yes.” Logan then turned to his friend and asked, “Let me ask you something Jean. Were you ever ‘the Old Boyfriend’.”

“The what?”

“The ‘Old Boyfriend’. You know, when a guy and a girl break up? She tries to go on with her life, and the guy now becomes the ‘Old Boyfriend’, and he seems to like, just never go away. He keeps trying to get back with her. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I know what you mean, and no, I would never behave in such a matter, and do you know why?”

“No, why?”

“Because I am not an idiot that’s why.” Jean-Luc answered rather confidently. Logan let out a small laugh. Jean-Luc then continued, “Why do you ask?”

“Because, that’s what Lily has.”

“Lily?”

“The girl, that’s her name. She has an ‘Old Boyfriend’ problem.” Logan said, but then added, “At least until last night any way.”

The door to the elevator opened just as Jean-Luc asked, “What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you about it after we see the Captain.”

They both stepped from the elevator and went directly to Captain Thiebulet’s office. Zoë, as always, was there to greet them, “He is expecting you both, go right in.” She informed them.

Captain Thiebulet stood up from his desk as they entered, “Ah, gentlemen. You are both here early. Good, good, please both of you take a seat please.”

Jean-Luc and Logan sat in the two chairs that were in front of the Captains desk. The Captain then reached down to the bottom right drawer of his desk where he produced two manila file folders. One was about an inch thick with papers, the other seemed to have only one sheet inside.

The Captain opened the thicker of the two, put on his glasses, and said, “Logan, I have gone over this strategy that you prepared concerning the suspected Volchesku receiving and distribution center west of Lille.” Lille, a city in northern France. For some time The French National Police and Interpol believed this was the main center for illegal narcotics dealing not only in France, but most of the European continent as well. “To be quite blunt Sergeant,” The Captain continued, “I like it. I like it very much.”

“Why, thank you sir,” Logan answered humbly, “that means a lot to me, really.”

“Do you really think you can go in there alone and execute this plan of yours.”

“Yes sir I do,” Logan answered confidently, “I have done these sort of things the past, many times, and I must add, against a more intelligent, and I must emphasize, a more formidable foes. These are just goons with guns.”

“They say that you should never underestimate your opponent.” The Captain said.

“I’m not underestimating them sir,” Logan said, “I’m just comparing them to what I’ve confronted in the past. I was a Deep Reconnaissance Commando. The enemies I fought were using their equivalents to fight me. When you have that to face, then it’s more of a chess game. I believe that you understand what I mean.”

“I do precisely.” The Captain then stepped over to the file cabinet, open the top drawer and produced a sealed manila envelope, he handed it to Logan, “That is why Sergeant, this was your plan, now I am making it your mission. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir I do.”

Thiebulet knew what he was doing. He was conjuring up the Legionnaire in Logan. By telling Logan that this was his mission, he knew how Logan was going to regard it.

It worked, for when Logan heard the words, “your mission”, the Legionnaire Code of Honor came to his mind. Specifically … Legionnaire Code Number Six.

Legionnaire Code Number Six states:

A mission is SACRED, you WILL carry it out to the end, at ALL costs.

“You will have seventy two hours Logan,” The Captain said to him, “beginning at the time you leave and enter into the forest. In this envelope are copies of your strategy, along with the radio frequencies you will be using.”

“When shall we be leaving sir?” Jean-Luc asked.

“Within the hour, so contact your wife. You both will be traveling to Lille with Henri. There, you will come in contact with some of our men, plus some agents from Interpol. Logan? All of the equipment and provisions that you listed in your plan will be waiting for you when you arrive there.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

“Logan, if this works, not only could we caused a major interruption in the Volchesku family business, this may eradicate them all together.”

“Yes sir.” Logan said.

“Good luck to all of you,” The Captain said, “let us hope that three days from now, we will be back here celebrating a great victory.” 

“Yes sir.” Said Logan.

“Thank you sir.” said Jean-Luc.

“However,” The Captain said, now in a more somber tone, “before I dismiss you, I must discuss something with the both of you that has been brought to my attention.”

The Captain returned to his desk and retrieved the thin file that he had left lying there. He opened it and removed the one sheet of paper that was inside. He put on his reading glasses and said, “This is a report that was filed last evening. It seems as though there was a disturbance near Le Club Argenté D'oiseau last night. Specifically, a man was assaulted in the alley behind the club. The victim was a Mr. Charles Forester, a tourist from London.”

Jean-Luc quickly turned his head to Logan. Logan had rolled his eyes upward, then shut them tight and sighed through his nostrils. Jean-Luc then turned to the Captain, who looked up from the sheet of paper, and tilted his head downward so that he could see Logan over his eyeglasses.

“Mr. Forester claims,” The Captain continued, “that he was assaulted by an American, a ‘very large’ American, with a muscular build.” The Captain again looked up from the paper and looked to Logan, he then continued reading aloud, “That the American suggested that they dance, and that’s when Mr. Forester claims that he realized that Le Club Argenté D'oiseau was an establishment that catered to the homosexual community. Mr. Forester claims that he told this American that there was a mistake, that the American became rude, Mr. Forester admits to using some negative language toward homosexuals to this American, but he left. He then states that the American followed him out of the club, forced him into the alley and assaulted him.”

“What was the extent of his injuries, if I may inquire?” Jean-Luc asked.

“A compound fracture to the nose, along with both of Mr. Forester’s front teeth broken.” The Captain answered.

Logan opened his eyes, sighed once again and asked, “May I see that report sir?”

The Captain complied with Logan’s request and handed him the paper. Logan then read the contents carefully.

“I notice that there is no word of any witnesses here.” Logan said.

“That is correct.” The Captain said.

“I also notice here that Mr. Deveroux, the owner of Le Club Argenté D'oiseau states that he never saw any man that fit the description of this American in the club that evening.”

“That is correct also.” The Captain said. “In fact the officer who was at the scene informed me that Mr. Deveroux said and I quote, ‘Honey, you can believe if I saw this American, he’d be all mine tonight.’”

Jean-Luc let out a laugh.

Logan handed the paper back to the Captain, “May I speak, off the record sir?”

“Yes Logan, you may.”

“I’m not going to bullshit you sir, yes, it was me. But I have to add things, many things, that Charlie there left out.”

“I am listening.”

“First there were three witnesses, one of which he was assaulting. I came to that persons defense.” Logan said, “Second, may I ask you, by any chance was there a weapon found on Charlie there?”

“Yes, there was, white handled knife.” The Captain answered. “We confiscated it, we informed Mr. Forester that we welcome our friends from the U.K. here anytime, it as just that we prefer they be unarmed, in all ways.”

“Well, Charlie pulled that knife on me and threatened me with it, his injuries were the result of my way of disarming him. If you need more evidence of this, look to the west side of the alley, you’ll see a wood fence outside a stairwell, third post from the right, there will be a slit there from that knife.”

“How did that happen?” Asked Jean-Luc.

“I threw it there.” Logan said.

Logan dropped his head and looked to the floor. Captain Thiebulet glanced over to Jean-Luc, when eye contact was made, the Captain winked at him.

“Well then,” The Captain said, “since that was all off the record, that is where it shall remain then. If Mr. Deveroux, one of the more predominant citizens of, and business members in, the city of Paris says he saw no such American in his establishment, then whom am I to believe. A man like Mr. Deveroux, or some English lout who is trying to cover his embarrassment for where he was caught patronizing?”

“I agree sir,” Jean-Luc said, “with that, may we be dismissed, we have a long way to travel.”

“Yes, dismissed by all means,” the Captain answered, then looked to Logan, “and let us hope this particular ‘American’ … shall we say … has gone home … shall we?”

“Yes sir,” Logan said, holding Thiebulet’s eye contact with his own, “we shall say that.”

“Well, as I have said before, good luck to you both then.”

With that, Logan and Jean-Luc left the office. Both stepped quickly down the hall, returning to the elevator where Jean-Luc pressed the button. Both men did not say a word to each other, they remained in their awkward silence until the elevator door opened and they both stepped in. The doors closed and both men felt the small lurch of the small car as it began to descend.

Both men stood shoulder to shoulder. Finally, Jean-Luc broke the silence and said in a sarcastic tone, “Old boyfriend.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Both men then broke out into laughter.

When the elevator doors opened, they stepped out into the garage level. There they saw Henri waiting for them. “Come on!” He said to them, standing by on of the small unmarked police vans, “we have a plane waiting for us.”

“Bigger then this van I hope.” Logan said.

“It’s a small government plane to take us to Lille. I have our travel bags already, let us get going.” Henri said as he opened the drivers side, got in and started the engine. Soon, all three were on their way to the airport.

* * *

A little more than ninety minutes later, as Logan, Jean-Luc, and Henri were already airborne, an official, unmarked black police sedan stopped in the alley behind Le Club Argenté D'oiseau. The engine shut down, and the drivers side door opened, out stepped the bullish figure of Captain Reginald Theibulet. He would usually travel with an assistant, however on this excursion he chose to be alone.

He looked to both ends of the alley and to the buildings on either side of him and saw that he was alone. He stepped to a wooden fence just to the west side that covered a stairwell. He stood at the end, and slowly walked the side of it until he came to the third support post. He examined the post and saw at his eye level a deep slit cut into the wood.

The Captain looked at it closely. He then reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat where he pulled out a large, ivory bone handled Buck Knife. It was the confiscated former property of Mr. Charles Forester, of London, England. The Captain opened the knife and held the blade up to the slit in the wood post. He then inserted it. The blade went into the slit about two inches deep and it was a perfect fit.

The Captain smiled. He then removed the knife from the post, folded it, and replaced it in his breast pocket.

“That is my boy.” He said to himself, chuckling, “That … is my boy.” - - -

- - - The train lurched forward, Logan came back from his memory. He looked around and saw that there were now about ten other people sharing the same train car as he. He studied the people in front of him as well as behind, nothing there that aroused any of his suspicions.

He removed his sunglasses and looked out his window and watched at the concrete support pillars slowly went past him as the train began to move in the dark corridor. Logan pressed his head against the window to see up ahead. There he saw the light of morning at the end of the tunnel. He looked to his wristwatch, it was just past 8:00 AM.

Seconds later the train exited the tunnel corridor and the morning light filled the train car. Logan looked out to see the magnificent skyline of the city of Chicago … where he had resided for the past seven years … for the very last time in his life. He looked at the Sears Tower, the Prudential Building, and the John Hancock Building. 

He watched as the city and the life he was leading there slowly started to get behind him.

As the train began to pick up speed, Logan began to think. He thought of what Jo-Jo was doing right now. She was probably on the “L” herself right now on her way to the bank building. He thought of Janeane and of her radical friends, they probably are still asleep. 

He then thought of how the note he left Jo-Jo … if things went as he planned over the years … would buy him the much needed time. Jo-Jo would take the note for what it was, that Logan just would not be in his office that day, she could handle everything, she knew all the procedures. It was something so simple that nobody would think twice about.

By the time everyone would be getting ready to leave work later that afternoon, Logan would be out of the country in ‘Grandmothers Land’.

By the next morning, when people would just start to get suspicious, Logan would be well out of North America.