Trafford Publishing: The Quiet Canadians

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The Quiet Canadians

by Warren Thompson

309 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-1140; ISBN 1-4120-3313-6; US$25.50, C$29.95, EUR19.95, £15.00

All governments need killers. Some governments train and hide them. Assassination is a judicial route that governments employ to resolve problems that elude legal process. Canada is not the exception.

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About the Book About the Author Excerpts Catalogue Information

About the Book
James Darren Bains
Son, idealistic young man,
University Graduate, Peace Officer
Canadian government sanctioned Assassin.
Chance meetings with highly skilled and motivated people; direct a young man into a world of deception and pain.
The Quiet Canadians is a fictional look into Canada's involvement in covert or clandestine activities. It presents a view of how such men are recruited into this profession and trained. It delves into how the men justify their activities to themselves, and how the government does likewise. It also portrays the child that becomes the operative. In this book, a series of chance meetings and, to an extent, fate, steers a child toward a lifestyle in a necessary, yet unacknowledged professional segment of society.
The novel begins in Western Canada, and moves to the Ottawa region of Ontario. There is a small portion of the book, which moves the theatre of action to Japan and Europe, returning to Canada for the conclusion.
This book is designed so people who read it can identify with the wrongs, and the justifications for actions stemming from those wrongs. It shows that Canadians can play a significant role in the world's affairs without being boisterous or arrogant about themselves. We quietly perform and let the results speak for themselves.

About the Author

From Grade One on, Warren was addicted to reading. The Thompson house always had a varied selection of novels, but his proclivity was toward adventure or science fiction. Eventually, commercial fiction won out. The Quiet Canadians is his first effort and shortly after its completion, he began writing another. Now the addiction is not only reading, but writing as well.
Warren lives in the Vancouver area with his wife and son.
Please visit: www.warrenthompsonbooks.com

Excerpts
While the General was on the phone a shadow detached itself from the side of the drapes and silently positioned itself behind the General's chair. When the General hung up the receiver, a strong hand with a cloth soaked in nerve toxin clamped onto the Generals mouth just as he was starting to inhale a breath of air.
The results were immediate. The General slumped in his chair. His eyes looked around wildly but his body had no voluntary muscle movement. He could not call out, only watch and drool.
The shadow removed the General's military blazer and rolled up both shirtsleeves. He withdrew a hypodermic from his shoulder pocket and removed the plastic sheath from the needle. The empty syringe was used to penetrate the veins of the right arm in several places. The General was left-handed after all.
Watuines' horror filled eyes followed the movements of the syringe going in and out of his arm and then searched out the eyes of the assailant but the eyes were not looking back at him. They were focused on the damage being done to the arm. They were the coldest most unemotional eyes Watuines had ever seen. He was being murdered and there would be no mercy.
The assailant waited for all the bleeding to stop then wiped off the blood with a tissue, which was placed in a back pocket with his urine and fecal bags.
With the right arm now suitably bruised to make it appear the General was using drugs before this evening, he placed the hypodermic between the General's left hand fingers and then the right hand fingers. He rolled down the right shirtsleeve and buttoned the cuff. This would give the appearance of a user distributing the needle marks to different parts of the body to prevent the wounds from becoming too obvious.
After filling the barrel of the syringe from a vial he deftly slid the needle into a vein in the Generals left arm. He injected the lethal dose of heroine into the arm and left the needle hanging out of the vein. An obvious overdose by someone who got too close to his own product.
The Generals eyes now found the assailants. The man was looking directly into his own. 'He is watching me die,' thought Watuines as a feeling of euphoria spread throughout his body and mind. 'Oh well.' Once the eyes glassed over from the narcotic, the assailant continued with his mission. He planted a packet of very high-grade heroin in a desk drawer, the quality befitting the General's high status in both government and the narcotics trade.
The shadow stood beside the chair waiting for the man to die. The wait would be a short one. As Watuines died the intruder looked at the briefcase and decided to take it. Orders were 'in and out clean' but for some reason the case seemed important. If of no use he would destroy it and its contents leaving no trace.
Three minutes later no pulse could be detected on the target and the now sightless eyes stared down at the desktop. A last scan to make sure nothing had fallen from his pockets and the shadow left through the window, which was no longer alarmed, and worked his way back to the tree.
It was 19:43 hrs. and darkness was descending quickly. He climbed the tree, attached the end of the heavier transfer wire to the guide wire that went through the hole in the piton. He pulled the free end of the invisible wire until the transfer wire was out, through the piton and back in his hand. The transfer wire was fastened around the tree trunk six feet higher than the wall and twisted with a four inch metal rod until the wire was taunt between the tree and the wall. The twist was crimped to prevent it from unraveling. The coil of light wire was stuffed into a pocket. It was now 19:46 hrs.
With his legs locked around the tree trunk, he attached himself to the transfer wire using the metal rings, which were sewn to his mid thigh and chest areas. Quickly, gloves with heavy rubberized palms were put on. He pulled himself over to the wall hand over hand. This was quite easy because the wire was attached high enough on the tree to make the traverse a slight down slope even though the wire sagged with his weight. Once at the wall he sat on it's top, his back less than an inch from the razor wire.
The transfer wire was cut and pulled free of the tree. Coiling it as it was dragged back to him through the protection zone, the wire was too light and small to activate any of the security measures and was soon in a pocket with the other discarded materials. It was 19:52 hrs.
He removed a small hard rubber hammer and hit the piton back and forth till it loosened and could be removed. Unfastening the rubber bands left a gap in the upper portion of the razor wire. Stepping over the remaining razor wire he knelt on the outer portion of the wall and reattached the rubber bands. He lowered himself from the top of the wall until he hung by his arms.
The shadow dropped, checked to be certain that nothing was left behind and disappeared from the small African country where he had never officially been.
Total time of operation: approximately seventeen hours. One of his faster jobs.

Catalogue Information