― Flannery O'Connor
Not For the Faint-Hearted
It's hard to believe a month ago I was a Professor with tenure and a secure future and now I'm fighting for my life.
I have no idea why a militia with white supremacist ideology is stalking me, even out in the sleepy cottage resorts of Port Dover.
I'm grateful Tara Stone, my colleague, has allowed me to use her cottage as a hideaway, but the terror group has tracked me here and is surveilling me.
It's a bizarre situation from a novel―a Professor of Literature being pursued as a Tom Cruise action hero because he intimidates a white terror group intent on violent revolution.
Much as I enjoy having my ego stroked, I'd rather go back to preparing lectures than monitoring a spy camera while a confederate plants a tracking device on a militia member's vehicle.
"Do you see anything on the cams, Prof?" Luc's voice whispers over my cell.
"Coast is clear, so far," I respond.
Why the hell did I say that? I mean, who talks like that? A character in a B movie, maybe―not me...
But then again, who am I lately anyway―allying myself with Wren Blaine, my next door neighbour who is a bona fide investigative reporter, while I'm just a wannabe trying to stalk my stalkers and shaking with fear while doing it.
Luc sounds frustrated.
"It's so dark out here, it's hard to see―no Moon tonight."
"I know , but I had to disable the motion lights, for fear you'd trip them and alert Barr. Remember, we promised Wren we'd avoid anything dangerous."
At that moment there's a flare in the camera as a light comes on in Barr's cottage.
"A light just came on―Someone's up, you need to get out of there, Luc, NOW!"
"I just need another min."
"NOW, Luc! I can see a shadow through the window―Barr's on the move."
There was a rustling noise, then the call cut off. I watched in horror as the front door opened and Barr came lumbering out toward his truck.
The camera tracked his motion from the house to the cab of the pickup where he started the vehicle and then stealthily drove off into the darkness.
I was startled by a hand grasping my shoulder and almost called out before glimpsing Luc's smiling face.
"You worry too much, Prof―I had lots of time to get out. "
I took a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves.
"Thank God you're okay. I don't care about the tracking device, but that guy's a psycho and was probably armed."
"He was―he had a handgun strapped on―probably a SIG Sauer M17― the usual army issue weapon."
"Did anyone ever comment on your unusual learning?" I smiled, shaking my head at his calm demeanour.
"I like to research stuff―technology sometimes involves high tech weaponry. What can I say?"
We picked the right guy for the job. Luc was amazing.
"Too bad Barr came out when he did," I sighed, I'd like to have known where he was going so late at night."
"So, why can't we know―what's stopping us?"
"I'm not jumping in the SUV and trying to tail that psychopath down back roads in the dark," I protested.
"No need for that, Prof," he said, pulling out his cell, "we can just track him in the Find My app on my phone."
"You mean you planted the air tag?" I sputtered in disbelief.
"Yeah, it's not that well concealed, but I'll just sneak back and recover it tomorrow. Knowing how dense Barr seems to be, I could probably leave the tag there permanently and he'd never know, but why take any chances?"
Why take any chances? he says...the guy's got ice water in his veins.