Read Online Call Down Thunder by Daniel Finn - Free Book Online Page A

were standing and then
walked swiftly back to where the boats were docking.
    LoJo let out his breath. ‘You think he saw us?’
    Reve shook his head, but he reckoned if the señor knew he’d been overheard he would not be happy. ‘You heard nothing, hey.’
    LoJo shook his head. ‘I heard him say—’
    ‘No.’ Reve was firm. ‘You heard nothing.’
    ‘OK. OK. I gotta go, Reve. My family goin to come lookin for me, ’spect me to be dead cos all that shooting . . .’
    ‘And the money you earn?’
    ‘You collect it for me – you know how much I done. OK?’
    Reve smiled. ‘You don’t think I just put your money in my pocket?’
    ‘Why you put my money in your pocket? Your pocket nothing but holes!’ With a wave he was gone, running down the pier.
    The work had started in earnest again. Reve took his place in the line and sweated another load, and then another, to and fro between the truck and the boats, till his legs felt like jelly, and
he stopped to catch his breath.
    ‘So how long we got?’ someone shouted.
    ‘No time!’ snapped the señor. ‘You got no time, so you work double quick. You want to still be here in the morning when the policeman come? You want that? Take your
breakfast in the Castle? Then move yourself!’
    The señor took another cigar from the inside of his jacket, bowed his head as he circled the match round the tip and then sucked so the flame pulled into the cigar. ‘I want those
boats gone before they send another helicopter. You think the coastguards got another helicopter, Secondo?’
    The man beside him shrugged. ‘Maybe they borrow one from the army.’
    Moro nodded. ‘Just one boat sunk?’
    ‘Yes, señor.’
    ‘Get the engine off it.’ He called Calde over. ‘Is it deep off this pier?’
    ‘Not so deep.’
    ‘Fix it then. Those engines cost more than a man’s life.’
    Calde strode over to where the men were gathered, and after some discussion a couple of them stripped off and dived in.
    Moro took the cigar from his mouth. ‘We lost any of the skippers?’ he said to his second in command.
    ‘One. Another got hit, his boat’s maybe OK, but he won’t be driving it. ‘
    ‘Calde!’ shouted Moro.
    Calde came running back; Reve had never seen the heavy man run before. He had a cluster of his men on his heels, and Hevez and Ramon too.
    ‘I want another skipper. Who you got?’
    Reve didn’t wait to hear who Calde was going to name; instead he ran back to the water’s edge for another load. He wanted to be there right to the end, hauling the sacks, sweating
hard so they could see how he worked, so they would pay him their dollar.
    Down along the pier, a gang of men was hand-hauling a rope that must have been attached to the sunken motor boat. They were sweating it up towards the sand. Reve hefted the last plastic sack up
on to his shoulder and trotted back to the truck. As he passed by, the señor saw him and jerked his head, beckoning him over.
    Panting, Reve stood, the sack awkward on his shoulder.
    ‘What do you think, Calde?’ The señor took out his cigar and studied its glowing tip. ‘You think the coastguards got lucky or you reckon some pig squealed?’
Reve’s heart pinched inside his chest. They couldn’t think it was him. He knew nothing! Unless Mi had been saying more things . . .
    Calde looked at Reve. ‘If we got a squeal-pig,’ he said to the señor, ‘it get its tongue cut out. You thinkin this one?’ Calde’s hand went to the long blade
he had hanging from his belt.
    Moro grunted what might have been a laugh. ‘No. Maybe. I don’t know, Calde. Finding the squeal-pig’s your business.’ To Reve he said, ‘Put that sack down.’
Reve slid it from his aching shoulder and let it drop at his feet. ‘You know how much dollar you carrying there?’
    Reve shook his head. He reckoned that whatever this man told him, the sack weighed too heavy to be packed with paper money.
    ‘A lot of dollar. Steal a bag like this from me and a man