success in becoming the legitimate protector of native people and their rights and traditional claims in the eyes of the people. When the intifada erupts, our people won’t hesitate to identify our cause with theirs.
“Once things start, of course, it’s crucial that the NPA doesn’t melt away in the face of trouble. You know, Alex, how overstretched the Canadian army is, but you know it’s a professional force. When and where its soldiers manage to get into action, they will perform effectively, and our guys have to be ready for that. That’s why we knew we had to find sufficient competent, experienced combat leaders to train the kids and hold them together when the shooting starts – ”
Alex looked at him sharply and Whitefish quickly corrected himself. “I mean, if shooting starts. Again, we looked to the federal government for unsuspecting assistance. First, we quietly encouraged young people who were beginning to see how things really were to keep their mouths shut and enlist, especially in officer training programs. Their job, as deep moles, wasn’t just to learn the ways of warfare but to build their own connections to natives otherwise enrolled in the armed forces. As a bonus, as they progressed in rank and responsibility, they gained knowledge and access to government secrets and establishments, very useful during the raids this week.
“This strategy worked splendidly. The Canadian Forces, including the reserves, the militia, provided a steady stream of leaders to meet the Committee’s needs. The government was eager to enrol native people in the armed forces, not just because they had long been a source of good soldiers, but to satisfy the demand for racial integration, multiculturalism, and diversity. We took full advantage of that. The leadership problem in the NPA has slowly sorted itself out as patriots arrived from the regular Canadian Forces and as native enrolment in the militia increased.
“Our training programs for those who haven’t been in the Canadian Forces are not particularly sophisticated, but they don’t need to be. We’ve got a small cadre, mostly former regular soldiers like yourself, trained to use explosives, lay mines, and build and destroy field obstacles, and perform basic field staff duties. Ordinary members only need to learn how to operate in small tactical units, employ basic small arms such as rifles and hand grenades, use radio communications systems, read maps, do as they’re told, and not panic in the face of trouble. Instilling discipline was a major issue and, again, it’s the regular members of the Canadian Forces who provided the way forward. They understand training, and the kids respect them. You know that; you were one of them and the team you trained did just fine. I’ll leave it there.”
“Thanks, Bill, the briefing was helpful. In fact, the simple force you described also describes the Taliban that I – we – fought and the Canadian Forces continues to fight in Afghanistan. And we all know how much trouble they were and still are.”
Bill looked to the back of the room. “Molly?”
Molly Grace had watched Alex carefully during the briefing. She had a peculiar talent for seeing right inside people, and although she knew a great deal about him from the files, in the flesh he impressed her even more. She sensed the sureness with which he absorbed information and admired his poise in alien circumstances. Molly’s aptitude for evaluating others was accompanied, perhaps even caused, by a failure of empathy; she rarely liked those she met, even those she admired, but she had an unerring ability to know when she had found someone useful to the cause, and she had a keen sense of how best to enlist their sympathy and support.
She stood up, walked to the front of the room, and balanced herself on the table’s front edge directly before Alex. “I wouldn’t normally say much more than Bill has just said, but I want you to fully understand how things work here and the reality of the Movement.
“Bill told you that the Native People’s Movement is directed by the Council. That’s not necessarily untrue, but it’s not the whole story. I’m going to take you into my confidence, mainly because we are going to give you a great deal of authority and you may find yourself in a situation where some local chief, some member of the People’s Council, might try to override what I have told you to do. I’m telling you this, Alex, because I can see what sort of man you are and because I think you appreciate the importance of discretion.
“The Council in fact provides me with a community consensus-building device, no more. It serves to involve some chiefs in decisions and that involvement commits them to supporting those decisions. Most of the chiefs know the outline of the strategic plan, but sometimes their knowledge isn’t always … shall we say, complete.
“All revolutionary organizations depend for success on a few dedicated leaders. The Movement’s plans, actions, and vital information are in the hands of the very small, secret vanguard, the Central Committee, those very few leaders who founded the First Nations’ Movement.
“The Central Committee needs the first nations chiefs for one reason and one reason only – our people know them and trust them. They think the chiefs are in charge of everything and so they go along. We may be leading a popular movement, but we can’t leave the revolution in the hands of the chiefs: it would fail if we trusted them to act.”
Molly shifted around and began to pace the room, speaking as much to the walls as to Alex. “The Central Committee never intended to trust the revolution to those co-opted, high-living sell-outs in Ottawa, the First Nations Federation leaders. That’s why the Committee is in touch with some of the best, the firmest, young men and women in the organized youth groups, community governing councils, and healing circles across the land. These special young people are our eyes and ears, and sometimes our hands, in the communities, the essential link between our strategy and our ability to act.
“They communicate with the Central Committee, with me, indirectly by a specially devised system of procedures and rules of contact. For the most part, they wait for instructions and carry on ‘legitimate’ programs, but they keep their eyes open for real or potential opposition, traitors, weaklings, the dissolute, provide information to their Committee contact, and keep the people focused on the real causes of their problems: the white man’s oppression and the government’s hypocrisy.
“Discipline within the cells is strict. And when they have to, cell leaders take decisive action in their communities. Mostly they use persuasion, but sometimes, I’ll be honest, they also use punishment, such as withholding band benefits and privileges or even expelling individuals from the reserve. Our access to resources, including taxing traditional trade outside the white man’s control, is also useful with some of our less resolute brothers and sisters. The point to remember is that the Central Committee is, as they say, ‘the vanguard of this revolution.’
“If we had time, which we don’t, I would take you in to see the People’s Council in action down the hall. They’re definitely in touch with the problems of the people, and in their hearts they know the solutions. It’s just a matter of keeping them from getting panicky about media reports of a ‘native uprising.’
“Okay, Alex, that’s enough for now. Bill will show you around and give you more immediate instructions for the next phase. You’re going to Winnipeg. We’ll talk later. Thanks for last night’s work.” Molly scooped up her papers and turned to leave.
Captain Gabriel, officer and gentleman, stepped forward to open the door and put out his hand. “Molly Grace, I assume? A pleasure to meet you. I wasn’t sure you were real, but you certainly are that.”
Molly recoiled, slightly wary of the unexpected courtesy and the obvious test. His actions were gracious, but her exit was softly blocked. She looked into Alex’s eyes, and as she held out a hand, her voice lost its commanding edge. “You’ll go far in this effort, Alex. I’m depending on you to work for the people. Lead and they’ll follow you.”
Tuesday, August 31, 1838 hours
Radisson
After a long day on the road, Will circled back to Radisson and his hotel late that night. As he pulled in, he saw Bob Ignace leaning against the side of his patrol truck in the parking lot.
“How’s the fishing, Boucanier?” Ignace called out as he walked towards the vehicle. “Never knew you were much of a fisherman. Take some lessons