Dirty Little Secrets ...Part 9 ...Asymmetrical Warfare

Mer and i had intended to stay with my friend, Trent Michaels, but we both felt we had burdened him enough for the time being .

Trent had contacted Martin Wiithers for us at CSIS, the Canadian Spy Agency and had arranged with the RCMP for our protection.

Since all three of us had our houses, vehicles and electronics scanned for malware there was no need to impose any further on Trent's hospitality.

We decided to go back to my place which was now truly a safe house and use that as our base of operations. Mer had only one request--that we stop by her townhouse and pick up her cat, Ginger, and bring her back with us to my house.

I readily agreed.

It wasn't easy to endure the stress we were under and the last thing she needed was to worry about the well-being of her pet. Besides, having the cat with her would make her feel more comfortable rather than boarding it in a pet retreat while we sorted out this problem.

Who knows how long this investigative reporting might take and so we needed to try to maintain a sense of normalcy even when dealing with such a deadly threat as posed by Pollock's goons with their militia-like tactics designed to harass and intimidate us.

But Mer made it perfectly clear. She had no intention of backing down.

We drove to her townhouse and saw an RCMP cruiser parked outside--that in itself was a comfort because all three of us would have 24/7 protection for ourselves and our possessions while the RCMP monitored the threat.

We parked in the driveway and I went in with Mer to check that everything was okay.

Ginger the cat sensed Mer was at the door and was waiting for her. She mewed when she saw her and leapt into her arms. It was touching to see the two of them clinging to each other.

It turned out the RCMP team that scanned the house for malware took pains to put out fresh water and refill Ginger's kibble bowl.

Mer gathered up Ginger's litter box, food, cat bed and toys and I carried them out to the car.

Mer made sure the house was locked down and followed me out.

"Don't you need a pet carrier to transport Ginger?" I asked.

She shook her head and laughed. "She'll be more content to lie in my lap--she's really attached to me."

I could see that was true. Ginger actually snuggled into Mer purring loudly until she fell fast asleep on the ride back to my house.

It seems we all were exhausted by the day's events and maybe now there'd be some semblance of a return to normal.

My expectations, however, were premature, because my cell rang en route to home and I clicked on the hands-free function to receive the call and heard the familiar voice of Mark Stevenson, my longtime editor.

"Hey Logan, just called to check in with you. The police were here and informed me of what you two were going through tonight."

"Thanks for phoning and touching base, Mar, but we're all right."

Suddenly, Mark's voice changed tones and sounded robotic:

This is serious business--you don't know what you're dealing with. There's still time for you to turn around--stop for your own good while you're both healthy.

The call ended. I glanced over at Mer and saw the horror on her face.

It was clear. There was no way this nightmare was ending anytime soon