Saga Of The Old Ones

By Neil Henderson

It was the first of the month, so he put on his coat and headed to the harbour by the big hotel in Victoria. This was the meeting place for when they would return. They would be a little too young to be able to get away from their new parents, but the chance was there, so he took a stroll by the water. He spotted a girl about five years old with her back to him. She was an Old One. Her new parents must be nearby. He caught his breath and walked up to her. "Kittens," he said quietly. She spun around with wide eyes. "Daddy! How?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Feb 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9781998190652

Neil Henderson

Neil Henderson was born and raised in Victoria, BC, and has always had an adventurous spirit. At a young age he explored nearby forests on his own and in his teenage years learned to free dive and scuba, and earned a private pilot licence. He became heavily involved in the sport of hang gliding in the 1970s. He next built a gyroplane, and later, while his wife earned her pilot's licence, Neil built a replica Piper Super Cub airplane which they flew to Oshkosh AirVenture Airshow in 2017. After retiring from their careers in Alberta, Neil and his wife moved to Vancouver Island, where they enjoy exploring the area on their boat.

Book preview

Copyright © 2024 by Neil Henderson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-1-998190-67-6 (Hardcover)

978-1-998190-66-9 (Paperback)

978-1-998190-65-2 (eBook)

Contents

Acknowledgments

Part 1: The Old Ones

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Part 2: The Wild One

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Part 3: The Redeemed One

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Epilogue

Part 4: Here Kitty Kitty

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Part 5: The Old Navigator

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

First, I’d like to thank my wife, Joanne, for her work and support on this book. I had written the first part, The Old Ones, in 2004. When we started dating, she read it and wondered what she was getting herself into. I believe she still wonders that today. Her support and love on so many aspects and proofreading to fix my creative spelling seemed endless. Without her, there would be no book. She was also the photographer of the author photo that captured life on our boat.

Next, I would like to thank Nancy Desolets, a long-time friend, for her continued support and encouragement. She never wavered in her belief in this endeavour and kept encouraging me.

Lastly, I give thanks to Sarah Desolets for the brilliant cover photo that I was so happy to receive.

Part 1

The Old Ones

Chapter 1

There he is, after all this time, just sitting at Starbucks drinking coffee. He’s only on page two of the sports section. He must have just gotten here. Jack Hunter’s dark-blue eyes watched keenly from the entrance, missing nothing. Had the man Jack had been watching noticed, the intensity of Jack’s interest would have caused him to look away.

Jack leaned his tall frame against the door, one hand in his front pocket, the other gently swinging. He had come through the mountains from the West Coast to Calgary to find Owen Cameron, a man twenty-six years younger than himself. Owen was an average-looking man—average height and a little heavier-than-average build. He looked like the guy next door.

Such creatures of habit we are, Jack mused. Once a Starbucks man, always a Starbucks man. He’ll have two packs of sugar in it, too. What a way to ruin a good cup of coffee.

Jack knew almost everything there was to know about Owen, and now he would finally meet him.

Hi, mind if I join you? Jack quickly asked as he sat down with a steaming black coffee.

Owen raised his eyebrows and leaned back. What can I do for you?

Jack took a sip of his coffee. You don’t remember me, do you?

Sorry, not really, the man replied.

Jack took another sip and lied, We used to know each other a long time ago.

From where? Owen pushed his coffee to the side, preparing to get up and run.

I’m sorry—I’m Jack Hunter. It really was a long time ago in Vancouver. You are Owen Cameron, aren’t you?

Yes, I am. Where do you know me from?

Jack leaned back with his left hand gently swinging by his side.

With a soothing voice, he replied, We worked together as shipper-receivers on the West Coast. Do you remember now?

Owen’s breath started to slow and get deeper. That was about eight years ago. You have a good memory. Yeah, you do look a little familiar. Hunter. Do you have any relatives in Vancouver?

Not that I know of. I just moved there for a few months for work until I could get something in Victoria. I like it a whole lot better there.

Owen shook his head slightly. I like the bigger cities; more to do. What brings you to Calgary?

Here to go hiking in Banff National Park. You been living out here long?

No, said Owen as he looked down, I just moved back here. This is my home town originally.

*     *     *

They spent the next hour catching up about the lives they’d had and the places they’d been. Jack pointed out a couple of men a half dozen tables away, taking an unusually keen interest in Owen. He knew they weren’t interested in him. Friends of yours? Don’t make it obvious when you look.

Owen glanced at them out of the corner of his eye and turned around again slowly.

Shit, Owen said softly, barely able to get the word out as his body tensed.

Jack sensed a strange mixture of concern as well as amusement. You know them?

No, but I can guess who sent them. I’ve got to get outta here, Owen whispered as his breathing turned rapid and shallow. You could really help me out of a bad situation if you give me a ride. Do you have a car here?

Just outside. Let’s just move slowly and casually to the door. I’m parked off to the right.

Owen glanced around, grimacing as they headed outside.

That one over there. Jack motioned. He hung back a few paces while Owen continued walking, then he turned and looked back. Moments later, one of the men darted out the door, his right hand reaching under his left arm inside his coat.

Jack stepped into the man, swinging his right hand with an open palm into the man’s left arm, pushing him against the wall and pinning the man’s right hand to his body. Jack’s knee came up into the man’s gut, and Owen turned in time to see him spin hard to the left, smashing his elbow into the man’s face just above the lip and below the nose. As the man collapsed, Jack freed the gun from the holster, slid it under his own belt, and continued his turn, walking to the car.

Let’s go, Jack said as he unlocked the doors. Owen was standing motionless, having witnessed what had just transpired. Let’s get going NOW! Jack shouted. They jumped into the car, backed up, and pulled forward, passing the crumpled heap of a man by the door.

Anywhere special that you want to go? Jack said casually.

Owen stammered, I-I don’t know, just away from here.

Now, what’s this all about? Jack demanded as they pulled out of the parking lot into traffic.

"What’s this all about? What about you? You aren’t who you say you are." A car darted from the same lot and into traffic, a few vehicles behind them. Only one of the strangers was in the car.

My name is Jack Hunter. I’m a little too busy to be showing you my driver’s licence. One of your buddies is three cars behind us.

Owen turned around to look, still breathing shallow and fast. But what is it with you? What’s happening? Why did you come here this morning?

Jack looked him straight in the eye for a couple of seconds before returning his gaze to the road. It’ll take a long time to explain. What you have to understand is that I’m on your side.

How do I know that? Owen asked.

Feel free to get out any time. I’ll just pull over here.

N-no. Just keep going, Owen stuttered. Can you lose him?

I’ll try. It’s tough in slow traffic.

Did you kill that guy back there?

I don’t know, maybe.

Who are you, really? Owen’s eyes narrowed.

Hopefully, I’m the guy who’s going to keep you alive today.

By luck, Jack was able to get a red light between them and their pursuer. This is bad traffic to try to outrun someone. Since I’m risking my life here, what’s this all about?

I-I don’t know, Owen stammered.

Don’t give me that. Those were serious guys with serious guns. You can get out right here and take your chances with your friend back at the light if you don’t start with straight, honest answers. What’s going on?

Owen ducked his head to get a clear view through the side mirror. I owe someone a bit of money.

That’s not all there is to it, is it?

It’s quite a bit of money, Owen mumbled.

What’s quite a bit of money?

Now Owen was staring directly out the back window. Ten million.

It seems to me they want to do more than just talk, Jack countered.

I think they want me dead.

Painfully slowly, the traffic crept forward. Jack kept an eye on the rearview mirror. But if they kill you, they’ll never get paid.

I wanted the guy I owe out of the way, and I knew that the cops were after him, explained Owen.

So you ratted him out?

I figured that he’d either get shot or go to jail—either way, he wouldn’t be my problem anymore.

You couldn’t pay up?

Owen took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before continuing. I had the money… more money than I’ve ever seen in my life. I just couldn’t hand it over.

Let me see if I understand this right. Now the guy you owe may be in jail, is pissed off, and has sent people to kill you.

That about sums it up.

Bill, I should throw you out right here! How are you at running?

What do you mean? Why did you call me Bill?

Ignoring the question, Jack sighed. I mean literally, can you run?

I used to in high school.

That won’t cut it now. If we’re in a foot race with this guy, how long could you last?

Probably not long, I’m afraid. I don’t work out or anything.

Still looking in the rearview mirror, Jack muttered, I bet he’s going to make a decision soon to abandon his car and try to take us on foot. He’ll go for shooting us here or chasing us. Then he could just disappear into the crowd.

Owen started to hyperventilate.

Jack placed his right hand on the familiar grip of the Colt .45. I bet he doesn’t know that I have his partner’s gun.

Owen turned from the back window and looked down at it. How’d you get that?

Jack ignored this question as too obvious to answer. You make your decision as to what you want to do, but for now, I’ll stick with the car. I don’t think we’d do well on foot, and I’d hate to see a gunfight in a crowd.

Just then, the traffic started to move, and the light changed for the would-be assassin—he was now about twelve cars behind them. The light turned red for Jack and Owen, with one car in front. As the traffic behind them slowed to a stop, Jack saw the man open his car door and start toward them. Here he comes, Jack announced.

Waiting until the man got about half way, Jack pulled up over the sidewalk and turned right, then right again down a clear alley all the way to the end, and then veered left onto a one-way street.

They lost him.

Thanks, Owen heaved.

Jack pulled out onto a main road and headed for the highway. If they found you down here, they probably know where you’re staying. Is there anything worth dying for back at your house or wherever you’re staying?

I guess not. I just rented a furnished apartment until I decided where I was going to end up. I only have a couple of suitcases; everything else is in storage in Vancouver. Owen paused, then said, Can you drive me to the airport? I’ll catch a flight somewhere.

Are you sure? The airport seems to me the first place they’ll be waiting for you. Do you mind if I drop you off at the last turnoff to the airport? I wouldn’t want to try to explain any bullet holes in the rental car, never mind having to pay for the damage.

Owen began his shallow breathing again. Shit, then where can I go? What do you think about the bus depot?

I don’t know. Do you want to chance it?

Owen looked anxiously behind him. Do you have any other ideas?

Yes, I do. I have an airplane at Springbank. You know, the little airport west of Calgary?

You have an airplane? Who are you, anyway?

I’m just who I said I am. We were friends a long time ago—really.

Owen just stared at him. There’s something about you that seems familiar. But as you said, that’s not all there is to it, is it?

Jack pulled onto the main highway heading west. He was silent for a few minutes.

Owen waited for an answer.

Jack turned to make eye contact. Owen, this will take some time to explain. I promise that I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, the main focus is to get you somewhere safe. He stepped on the gas, and the highway noise picked up.

I think I could stay in Edmonton, Owen said. I have some friends up there.

Do you want to take that risk? I know a place I’m sure they won’t find.

Owen crossed his arms in front of him. Where would that be?

You could stay with a friend of mine. He’s sort of a Buddhist monk. He lives in the hills, up north on Vancouver Island. He just has a small house in the bush. It’s his monastery. You’d like him.

Owen looked over to Jack and screamed, Holy shit!

Jack immediately looked left. Beside him was that car again. The passenger window was down, and the sun glinted off the barrel of a handgun. Jack slammed hard on the brakes and pulled off to the right shoulder. As they skidded slower, a semi-trailer that was following behind stormed between the two cars, its horn blowing. Jack slammed the car into reverse, and as fast as he could handle it, he backed up to the turnoff to the overpass a few minutes behind them. They took the overpass and headed back to Calgary.

Now Owen was barely breathing, taking rapid, shallow breaths. He was covered in sweat. I don’t see him at all. I bet he got tangled up in the traffic, slowed him down. What do we do now?

Jack appeared as though he had never lost his composure. I know a back way to the airport. We’ll have to cut through Calgary again, but we’ve put some distance between us and that guy again. Who are these guys? Jack demanded.

Owen remained silent.

I’m flying back to Vancouver Island. I sure can’t stay here now, Jack continued. You coming, Owen?

I don’t see how I have much choice at the moment.

Chapter 2

It was shortly before 10:00 a.m. when they arrived at the small airport. The early summer sky was clear and big. A full panoramic view of the still-green wheat fields nestled before the foothills with the white-capped mountains rising up behind them. It was a good day to be alive. Owen’s normal breathing returned, but after the morning’s events, he was watching in all directions.

Is it your airplane or your company’s?

It’s all mine. When we go through the hangar to the plane, use the washroom if you need to. There’s none on board, and I don’t want to make a pit stop if I don’t have to. Be quick about it, though. This guy has a habit of catching up.

Through the hangar, Owen saw a Cessna jet. This guy must be loaded, he thought. Do you have a pilot waiting? he asked.

No, Jack replied. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me as your pilot.

Owen straightened up and followed Jack out to the plane. As they passed by the jet, Owen was starting to feel confused, as the only other plane parked on the tarmac was a little rag that looked like an antique. With horror, he watched Jack open the door to the vintage plane to let out some of the heat and then began to untie it. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Owen cried.

No, this is it.

I’m not getting in that. No way. How’s that going to get through the mountains to the island?

I got it here yesterday that way, Jack replied. Relax, this is a Piper Cub. They say it’s the safest plane in the world. It can just barely kill you. Actually, this plane is older than I am, a 1946, and it’s never been in an accident. I got my pilot licence on one of these. I just love them—easy to fly, docile, safe. They’re a world of fun. Jack was running his hands with admiration over the plane. I restored this myself. You see the door hinged along the top and bottom? It’s called a clamshell door. This way, the top half can hook under the wing, and the bottom half can just fall down by gravity. Then, you can fly with the whole doorway open. It’ll only do about eighty miles per hour, so an open door is no problem. I even painted it in the original yellow.

Owen thought he was going to be sick. One seat behind the other. There’s not even any room for my legs!

No problem, your feet go on either side of my seat.

I’m not doing it. Owen turned with his back to the plane.

Then they both saw it, between the hangars on the road. It was that car again—or was it? It drove slowly, then passed them, disappearing in front of the other hangars.

Maybe not, Owen said.

Just then, the car backed up. It was the same driver as before. He looked directly at them.

Bill, get in the plane. Now! Jack yelled. And do up the seat belt.

Owen jumped in and buckled up. Jack swung the propeller by hand to get the engine started, then climbed in. Moments later, they were pulling ahead while Jack put on his headset and got clearance from the tower to move. He went through a few pre-flight checks as they taxied for the runway. Jack handed an extra headset back over his shoulder to Owen, who promptly put it on. Can you hear me? You don’t have to key the mic. It’s voice-activated.

Yeah, I can hear you, Owen replied.

OK, you must have the mic up in the right place, too. Keep it right up to your lips. Unless you see your friend come running up, keep quiet for a while—I have to listen to the tower. I don’t think he will chance it with a tower watching and security around. Also, there’s only one road in and out.

Owen didn’t like this one bit, but he didn’t see any other way around it. This day sure hadn’t gone as planned. How could all this have happened, so much, so fast? Maybe I should’ve asked him to drop me off at a police station, but I have to avoid them, too. Besides, it won’t work forever. Now I have a choice between trying to make it out of here without being shot or flying off with a stranger, but he saved my life. Who the hell is he anyway, and why does he keep calling me Bill?

They got clearance for takeoff. Jack quickly filled Owen in, The Piper Cub is a tail dragger, and there is no nose wheel, just two main wheels and a smaller wheel under the tail, so it sits on an incline. As I pick up speed, I’ll push the stick forward and raise the tail to a level position.

Owen could now see out the front window. He felt exhilaration from the moment of takeoff. This was definitely not like the big planes. As the ground dropped below them, everything below took on the appearance of toys. The cars and houses did not look real. The view of the mountains was startlingly spectacular—you’d swear you could see the mountain range all the way to Montana. They cleared the airport’s control zone, and Jack spoke up. How are you doing now?

This is just great. I had no idea. Just then, the left wing bumped up. Everything OK?

No problem, Jack assured him. Just think of it like a bumpy road that you’re driving down. It’s about the same thing, really. You see that hawk circling out to our left? He’s catching the same updraft.

As shaky as he was, Owen was enjoying this—no doubt in part to leaving his troubles back at the airport. They were now over the highway, approaching the mountains. They were flying at the same level as the peaks. There were waterfalls high up in the mountains that you couldn’t see from the ground. Everything seemed too real.

Owen, you have a duplicate set of controls back there. Put your feet on the pedals and your right hand on the stick, and follow me on what I’m doing.

Although hesitant at first, Owen was ready for this. Jack went through some fundamentals of flying and let him play with the controls for a while.

You are handling this like it feels familiar. Do you remember your flying lessons?

No, I’ve never taken them. First time in something like this.

Why don’t you take it for a while? I’ll cover you.

They were now over the resort town of Banff. It looked a lot different from the air. Jack coached him on small corrections on the stick and rudder to keep the plane straight. Soon, they were beside Castle Mountain. I never even knew there was a lake up here.

Jack corrected the control stick. Wait till you see Lake Louise.

Just then, there was a shower of Plexiglas from above them. What was that? Jack asked.

Owen looked up through the skylight that now had a hole in it and saw a plane above, close and off to the left. The window was open, and an arm with a handgun was pointing right at them.

They’re shooting at us!

Jack looked up and saw the plane. He throttled back and pushed the stick down hard and left.

Owen thought that his stomach was about to be slammed up into his skull. A few seconds later, Jack hit full power and pulled up. Owen then felt as though all the blood had drained from his head. In the other plane—a Cessna—the pilot and passenger sat side by side, unlike the Cub, where the two seats were one behind the other.

After Jack’s manoeuvres, they were now on the other side of the shooter. He opened the horizontal door and let the catch hold it under the wing above them. He was just about to draw his gun when the Cessna pulled up and looped around behind them. He pulled up and right and saw the faster Cessna immediately pass him on his left. He wanted to get the other plane to his right side so he could shoot through the opened door. The other plane looped around and again was on their left, the shooter’s side. Jack pushed the stick down and right. The other plane matched their moves. Then Owen saw the muzzle flash of the handgun—once, twice, three times.

Jack pulled the plane almost straight up and took the headset off so he could focus on what was happening—Owen’s yelling and screaming through the intercom was getting on his nerves. As the Cub slowed down, Jack kicked the right rudder and was now pointing straight toward the ground. From this vantage point, he could see the Cessna and headed down toward it. As Jack side-slipped in from the other plane’s blind spot on his right, he changed hands on the stick, pulled the gun he had taken off the man at the coffee house, and fired five rounds in rapid succession through the open door. The Cessna turned away and headed downward fast. It was useless to try to follow a faster plane. He could hear Owen yell something again, so he put the headset back on.

Did you get them?

I got the guy on the left side, the pilot, but I don’t know about the shooter. If he’s still alive, I wonder if he knows how to fly an airplane. If not, he’s got some interesting challenges ahead. Let’s carry on and keep a good lookout.

They turned around and continued on course. As a Cub doesn’t have a rear window, every once in a while, they would make an S turn to see if they were being followed.

*     *     *

Later, they landed at Golden, BC, for fuel. When they stopped and got out, Owen was feeling shaken. His mouth was dry, and his legs unsteady.

How did they find us up there?

Jack closed the bottom of his jacket to hide the gun. They could see which way we were headed, and for a low and slow plane like I have, there is only a few ways through the mountains. It wouldn’t take much in a faster plane to catch up. Who are these guys? They’re pretty damned determined to kill you.

Owen took a breath. Have you heard of a Vancouver guy they call ‘Vladimir’? He’s some Russian mafia-type boss.

Jack let out a low whistle. You sure know how to pick them. How did you come to owe him ten mill?

Gambling.

Why didn’t you quit way before that?

I thought that if I could just keep going double or nothing, I couldn’t lose.

But not if it’s rigged, right? Jack mused.

That’s one of the reasons I just couldn’t give him the money. He cheated me. I know it.

How did you get the money to pay him off? Gambling again?

No, I inherited it.

Jack turned his head, took a deep breath, released it slowly, and started toward the hangar.

Let’s get some coffee and gas and move on.

Move on? After that? I don’t know. I have to think.

Well, while you think, who knows if they’re sending someone else? These guys are very connected. They must’ve had a plane at their disposal. I’m impressed.

Great that you’re impressed! I just about got my head shot off, and that impresses you.

Think about it, Jack said. They must have a lot of connections. They wouldn’t have known what you would have done after we left the coffee house, and yet they found us. How? While you’re thinking about it, I’m at least going to get myself a coffee. Want one?

Owen just stood there, watching Jack walk off.

*     *     *

After Jack finished his black coffee, he fuelled up the plane and checked the oil level. Owen watched as he searched for bullet holes.

At times like this, I’m glad I have long-range tanks. We will still need one more fuel stop. I’m sorry I painted it yellow, though; light blue would have been better for today. Looks like just one hole through the roof and out the bottom—lucky. Let’s go.

Owen’s mind was spinning. He stopped at the door. You seem to be taking all this really calmly.

I’ve been in and out of a few wars before. This is nothing.

What are you doing this for? The money? I don’t have it anymore. I lost it in Vegas.

Jack stiffened slightly, appearing like he knew he was just lied to. No, not the money; friendship. You mean a lot to me, Owen, and you’ve meant a lot for a long time. I promise I’ll tell you everything. It’ll take a while to explain.

Then explain. I don’t even know you.

Jack sighed. "I will later. This isn’t the time. I’ve shown you that I’m willing to