Hunter's Games (31 page)

“I’m a few minutes away from the docks,” I reply. “I’ve hit some traffic.”

“That’s to be expected, I guess, what with everything going on over there.”

“How are things with you?”

“This place is mental! I think the Secret Service is starting to take our concerns seriously, but aren’t being very cooperative in terms of allowing the FBI access to the ship. Agent Chambers is shouting a lot on the phone. I think she’s intending setting off for the Jeremiah with Agent Wallis any minute.”

“Unbelievable…They’ll be cooperative when they get blown to shit, and the FBI says I told you so.”

“If only people would listen to
us
, eh? Anyway, go do your thing, Bossman. I’ve got your back here.”

Instead of hanging up, Josh starts playing music down the line. I smile as the opening guitar riff from
Smoke On The Water
drifts into my ears.

I focus on the road and steadily navigate my way through the traffic, which is getting heavier the closer I get to the docks. As I hit The Embarcadero, vehicles are almost at a standstill. Cops are standing in the middle of the road, directing cars in different directions. I lean out the window and look ahead. The sun’s slowly turning orange as it begins its descent, and is casting a subtle glow on the never-ending line of traffic ahead of me.

Goddamnit!

I check the clock in the car. According to that news report I saw, the service aboard the Jeremiah is due to start at eight p.m. I’m running out of time and I’m probably ten minutes away from where I need to be right now.

The music fades away, and Josh comes back on the line.

“Still with us?” he asks.

“Just about,” I reply. “Although, I’m going to start shooting people if this traffic doesn’t clear up soon.”

He laughs. “Hang on a second… Right, I’m tracking you via the GPS in your phone. You still have a way to go before you reach Pier 33, and the traffic’s only going to get worse the further along you go, but you can turn off early onto Pier 29 and drive along there—it might save you some time.”

“Excellent, I can see the turn just ahead. So, here’s a question for you… have you ever driven an underwater car before?”

He laughs again. “Can’t say I have,” he replies.

“But you’re familiar with them?”

“More than you are, yeah.”

“So, what am I meant to do when I reach the end of the pier, exactly?”

“You’ve got to drive off the end!”

“Josh, I’m being serious here.”

“Adrian, so am I! How else do you expect to get underwater?”

“So, I just… drive off? Will I not drown in the car? This sounds like one of those things I really need to get right first time, y’know.”

“Have you got a lever at the side of you?”

I take a look. “I’ve got two.”

“Right, well one’s the handbrake. The other, you need to pull as soon as you’re airborne but before you hit the water.”

“What will it do?”

“It’s make sure the roof and windows and everything else is shut tight and sealed to make them waterproof. It will also disengage the main electric engine and switch on to the secondary supply, which is used to power the water-based part of the vehicle.”

“Christ, this is some real life James Bond shit, isn’t it! How do I steer the damn thing?”

“You’ll be able to push and pull the wheel as well as turn it—this will control your depth. Forward for down, backward for up.”

“Huh… Well, this should be entertaining.”

“Assuming you manage it, our comms will be down until you re-surface, so you’re on your own until you reach Alcatraz.”

I see a gap in the traffic and take it, accelerating quickly, and stopping again. The turn for Pier 29 is just ahead on my right.

“Fair enough. Tell Agent Chambers good luck from me.”

“I will…” He falls silent.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Josh, I can hear you smiling down the phone. What?”

He laughs. “I’m sorry—did you think all the awkward, uncomfortable flirting you two have been doing wasn’t visible to the rest of us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“‘Uh-huh...”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I have absolutely no issue with shooting you, you know that, right?”

He laughs again. “Whatever you say, Bossman.”

“Anyway, I’m just about to turn onto the Pier now. I’ll call you once I get to The Rock.”

I hang up and take the turn, slowing to a stop at the beginning of the pier. There’s a parking lot which is half-full, with spaces on the left along the side of a building. Luckily, there aren’t many people around. I set off again slowly toward the end of the pier.

I must admit, I’m not completely confident with driving into the water and pulling a lever so that I don’t drown. I get that technology is amazing and useful nowadays, but it doesn’t mean I trust it. I just want to make sure I know what I’m doing. No use going to all this trouble if I die before I even make it to Pellaggio.

I stop at an angle as I reach the edge of the pier and get out of the car. I look around and come across the first of what I suspect will be many roadblocks I encounter before all this is over—the pier is fenced off, so I can’t drive off the edge.

Great.
Now
what do I do?

I look around, but there’s no one this far down the pier. I walk over to the barriers. They’re interlinked metal gates, maybe three feet high and five feet wide, welded into place. If I drove at them full speed, I’d probably write the car off and injure myself. They’re too high to start trying to build a ramp either.

Shit.

Hang on…

I walk quickly back to the car, opening up the black sports bag on the back seat that doesn’t contain the grappling gun. Inside is a Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine gun—my personal favorite—resting on top of a pile of spare magazines. Lining the bottom of the bag next to it is a selection of grenades. Smoke, flashbangs, white phosphorous and...

Frags.

I pick one up and look at it in my hand. There’s no one around… this would almost certainly blow at least one section of barrier off, which would leave a space wide enough to drive through.

I turn to walk back to the barrier when something inside the bag catches my eye. I reach inside and retrieve a back holster, identical to the one I used to wear. Resting in it are two brand new, custom Berettas. My eyes widen like a kid on Christmas morning who’s just opened a present and found the one thing he wanted more than anything in his life. They’re not the A1 model that I’d loved and lost, but the more prominent FS variation. I take one out and hold it in the palm of my hand, feeling the weight. I look at it and smile. On the butt, where I’d had the Sigil of Baphomet engraved on my A1s is an intricately detailed image of a smiling Devil’s face. Every aspect of the gun is jet black, but the engraving is blood red.

I tuck it into my waistband at my back. I’ll leave the other one in the bag for now. I walk over to the barrier once more and measure it up, casually tossing the grenade up and catching it as I concentrate.

My earpiece is still in place, so I dial Josh.

“You not drowned yet then?” he asks.

“Not yet… listen, is Grace still with you?”

“No, she and Wallis are en route to the Jeremiah. Why?”

“Can you get in touch with her?”

“I have her number, yeah. Why, Adrian?”

“Can you just let her know that if she hears any reports in the next few minutes of a small explosion on Pier 29, there’s no need to worry—it’s just me.”

There’s a moment of silence on the line.

“Yeah, why not...”

“Thanks.”

I hang up and pull the pin from the grenade, letting it cook for a second before rolling it along the ground toward the railing. As soon as it leaves my hand, I run back to the car. I reach it just as the explosion sounds out. It’s deafening and couples with the noise of screeching metal as the barrier blows out. A cloud of smoke fills the air, raining down rubble and splintered wood.

I climb in behind the wheel and wait for the dust to settle. As the cloud fades, the gap I’ve created appears, which is plenty big enough.

Excellent. Now I just need to drive off the pier…

I put the roof up on the sports car and make sure to fully raise the windows. I reach down with my right hand and grip the lever that isn’t my handbrake. I let out a heavy sigh.

I do some really stupid things sometimes…

Without hesitating, I push my foot to the floor and set off screaming down the pier toward the gap. As I approach, I look to my left and see the outline of Alcatraz Island in the distance. At least it’s not hard to find.

I fail to suppress a guttural scream of adrenaline as I fight every natural urge I have to slam my brakes on as the end approaches. I feel the car leave the ground, the engine revving loudly as all four wheels spin wildly as the water of the Bay appears in front of me, rushing toward me faster than I could’ve imagined. I quickly pull the lever, hard enough that I momentarily worry I’ve snapped it. I hear one loud mechanical noise as a million tiny components all adjust themselves milliseconds before I plunge into the water. Instinctively, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, holding it as I grip the wheel until my knuckles turn white. I count to five, and open my eyes. I give it another two before breathing out.

I start laughing.

Holy shit, I’m underwater!

I try the wheel and, sure enough, the steering column now allows me to push the wheel forward or pull it back. To put my mind at ease, I press my hand against the seats, the floor, the roof, the windows, everything. All watertight.

Un-fucking-believable!

Clark’s out-done himself this time.

I gently press the gas and pull back on the wheel and I surge forward, leveling out. I drive forward… am I driving? Or am I sailing or doing whatever it is a submarine does? I don’t know… anyway, after a few moments, I realize it’s harder to navigate than I thought it would be, so I pull back on the wheel as much as I can and climb; the wavy glare of the sun gets closer and brighter until I break the surface with a big splash and float.

I look around me. I’m facing just to the right of Alcatraz. I give it a little gas and line myself up, glancing to the left at the crowd of people lining the neighboring piers and pointing at me. Luckily I’m far enough from the streets that the main crowds and patrolling authorities haven’t seen me yet—but that’s surely only a matter of time because of the explosion.

I take a few deep breaths and gun the engine again, pushing forward on the wheel as I do. I slowly sink beneath the surface once more. The dash is lit up with screens that seem to tell me depth, as well as speed, and a whole bunch of other stuff that makes little sense to me right now. I focus on keeping going in a straight line.

Maybe a mile and a half ahead of me, Danny Pellaggio, along with Ivan Gregovski, and whoever else he has with him, is preparing to commit an act of terrorism that could potential start a second Cold War. He has no idea that I’m coming for him. My Inner Satan has two black bags and plenty of reasons to be pissed.

I smile at the irony of the situation—he’s been running around calling himself The Shark and here I am, a predator far above him in the food chain, approaching with deadly intent below the surface of the San Francisco Bay. I can smell the blood. I can
taste
it. And I’m looking to spill a whole lot more…

Who’s the shark now, asshole?

I can’t help but start to hum the theme tune from
Jaws
.

17:19

I cover the distance in a matter of minutes. Seeing the outline of the island ahead, I head left, looping around in a wide circle to approach from the far side of the island to where we assume Pellaggio will be. When we first looked at Alcatraz, we all agreed that if Pellaggio was going to fire on the S.S. Jeremiah O’Brien, either he’d do it from the right hand side, on the roof of the main prison, or further down the East Road, near the Quartermaster’s building—he’d have line of sight and a better angle to fire from.

I drop my speed and slowly climb to the surface again. I wish I’d put a fin on the roof—that would’ve been brilliant!

I come to a stop and immediately dial Josh. “How am I looking?” I ask as he picks up.

“I’ve just picked you back up on the GPS,” he announces. “You’re looking good. How was it?”

“Being underwater? Fucking weird!”

“I bet!” he says, laughing. “At least you didn’t kill yourself.”

“Yeah, always a bonus. So where am I exactly?”

“Pretty much bang on where you need to be. The north-west corner of the island is just ahead. You should come up on the West Road at the back of the lighthouse, which will provide you with enough to get yourself prepared. Thermal imaging from the GlobaTech drone we’ve got over the area is showing minimal movement on the far side of the island. There’s literally one guy patrolling, and he’s heading over to the lighthouse as we speak. Take him out and you should have a clear run toward Pellaggio. Now, steer another couple of hundred meters and you should see a small inlet in the rock formation that’s level enough for you to climb onto. It’s the best place to begin your ascent.”