Canada: End of a Bad Dream

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Wary Talks. The police, however, fully redeemed themselves last week. Nothing had been heard from Cross since Nov. 21, when in a letter addressed to the police he reported that he was well but wondering "when this bad dream will be over." By then, the police were already closing in on the apartment at 10945. Two weeks ago, a five-man surveillance team moved into the flat above the kidnap hideout. But not until early last week, when one of the kidnapers and his wife were arrested and talked, were the police sure that Cross was in the apartment and that his captors were in a mood to negotiate.

Wary bargaining went on for four hours in a building across Des Re-collets Avenue between two lawyers, one representing the F.L.Q. and the other Premier Robert Bourassa's Quebec provincial government. Finally an agreement was reached.

Three F.L.Q. kidnapers filed out of the flat, led by a soft-faced Montreal cab driver named Marc Carbonneau. The terrorists, their lawyer, a policeman and Cross all crowded into a wine-colored 1962 Chrysler that belonged to one of the kidnapers. An escort of a dozen police cars and motorcycles roared out of Des Recollets Avenue, the Chrysler sandwiched in the middle, for a 60-m.p.h. dash to the former site of Expo 67, twelve miles away. Carbonneau insisted on taking the wheel of the Chrysler, which was rigged with booby traps that would blow him and everyone else to smithereens if all did not go as the government had promised.

When the motorcade reached the island, which was declared "Temporary Cuban Territory" for the exchange, Cross was turned over to the Cuban consul. The four F.L.Q. terrorists and the three relatives clambered into a helicopter for the 15-mile flight to Montreal's Dorval Airport. There a Canadian Forces Yukon transport was waiting to take them to Cuba, which had agreed to act as the terrorists' travel agent early on in the shabby kidnap drama. Five and a half hours later, the Yukon arrived in Havana, and the seven French Canadians began their life of exile. Only then did Cross become a free man.

Sad Note. The government had yielded very little to the terrorists, who were reported to be "not very keen" on going to Cuba. But there were some who thought that there should have been no bargain with them at all. Cross, of course, did not share that view. "It's almost like being out of hell," he told reporters after his release.

During his two months at 10945 Des Récollets Avenue, Cross was forced to live in what he described as an enforced "state of suspended animation." He saw 164 French-language movies on TV and lost 22 lbs. on a diet that consisted largely of spaghetti and peanut butter. His captors, "convinced and fervent revolutionaries," confined him in a sunless room. There he was handcuffed every night and watched 24 hours a day by two guards who had a disconcerting way of fiddling around with the clips of their submachine guns. At first, hoods and hostage talked politics; but after Laporte was killed, Cross "did not feel like continuing the discussions."