Read Online The Rig 2: Storm Warning by Steve Rollins - Free Book Online

dumbfounded. Sheila looked at him and felt her jaw drop. She wanted to scream, but her voice stopped in her throat.
    The man grinned an evil grin at them.
    “Well, that’s taken care of then.” He spat on the ground. “That loose end is finally tied up. Now we can get on with our lives again.”
    Wes had a question on his lips, but he could not speak. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.
    “Smith,” the shooter introduced himself, “from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, San Diego office, Southern California, FEMA region nine, Department of Homeland Security, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...”
    He brandished the gun to enforce the last words.
    “What...” Sheila asked, rising from her seat on the crate. “What did you just do? Why?”
    “Isn’t that obvious?” Smith turned his evil grin to her. “I killed him.”
    “But why?” There was a tone of hysteria in her voice. “Why did you have to do that? Kill him? Shouldn’t he have faced justice? I don’t care that he was a terrorist; he should have faced justice...”
    Smith threw his head back and laughed heartily.
    “You stupid woman, didn’t you listen to him?”
    “But...” The insecurity in Sheila’s voice was audible. “That was just some stupid conspiracy theory...”
    Smith snorted.
    “He was right.”
    “He was right?” Sheila asked.
    “He was right. He didn’t do anything; we did it. And we did exactly what he said we did.”
    Wes knew the man was not paying any attention to him. He saw him looking at Sheila’s bare legs and the bits that showed from beneath her thong. He slowly put his hand into his trouser pocket and drew out his phone. He knew he could not call anyone, but he could do something else. Without looking he keyed in the code to unlock the touch screen. He scrolled through the menu and selected the audio recorder. He glanced down and adjusted the volume, then pressed record.
    “What did you do?” he asked Smith.
    Smith laughed again.
    “We set this whole fucking thing up.” He gestured around. “This whole damned rig is a failure, so someone offered it up to us to use as a setting for our six-week cycle event. ‘Cause he was right. We do need people to remain scared. We need people to remain scared so the politicians will keep funding us, instead of sending their money to those idiots at the NSA or the CIA. Or maybe spend it on buying more crap from some manufacturer in Virginia.”
    “So you, the FBI, is responsible for all of this?” Wes asked, with his voice calm.
    “Yup, not that it’s anything to you. You will be going down with this damned place when it finally goes up in flames.”
     
     
    Chapter Eighteen
     
    Garcia could not hear what was going on in the docks, but he had a fair idea. He saw the shot and he cursed. He had known this would happen when he saw Smith appear from the office completely revitalized. He knew Smith would become too reckless, but he never expected to see the scene he just watched on the monitor.
    He saw Smith pull the trigger and he saw Akhmed fall. The boy must be dead. He regretted it. Akhmed had been a nice guy, but things were what they were. There was nothing to do about it; nothing could have been done about it the moment he allowed Smith to choose Akhmed Hussain Abbasi as a target. As a means to accomplish the ends they had in mind.
    It was sad, really. But it had to be done. They needed a patsy and Akhmed had been the best choice Smith was able to come up with. He had not found a better one himself, so the plan was made and executed. It was the way it was; no time for regrets.
    Garcia knew what would be next, or what should be next. The next thing Smith should do was shoot those people who had just witnessed the murder. But to his growing astonishment, Smith just stood there, talking to them. It almost seemed like he was watching Smith speak one of Shakespeare’s soliloquies. He could not believe his eyes. He buried his head in his hands for a moment, sinking onto