Read Online Wood's Reach by Steven Becker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steven Becker
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T-top roof wobbled under his weight, but he ignored it and turned back to help her. She was already in midair. Landing in a crouch, she followed him down the rungs of the stainless tubing.
The engine started, and he risked a look up at the bow of Hawk’s ship. There were two men standing above him. From this angle, they were shielded by the flare of the bow, but the second he moved away from the dock, they would be exposed. With no choice, he went back to the helm and pulled the throttle back into reverse. Wincing as the engine cowling slammed into the dock, he pushed the handles down. The boat moved forward while he cut the wheel hard to the left, smashing the cowling against the other piling. Gunshots were fired, and he ducked behind the console, pulling the woman with him.
He was moving away from Hawk’s trawler now, staying close to the boats docked on his port side, using them for cover as he followed the slight bend in the canal. They were almost clear when he heard the sound of an outboard coming toward them. By the volume alone, he could tell it was moving faster than the posted no-wake speed limit. Thinking back, he realized he had only seen Wallace on the boat with Hawk. Ironhead must be in another boat, trying to trap them. Just as he thought it, a cabin cruiser turned the corner, and he could see the unique shape of Ironhead’s torso at the helm, silhouetted in the moonlight.
The boat was bigger than the center-console, and Mac tried to judge its height off the water. It would be close, but it just might work if they could get past Hawk without getting shot. He pushed down on the throttles and slammed the wheel to the right, hoping the hull could make the hundred-and-eighty-degree turn without smashing another boat. A large sportfisher encroached into the canal, forcing him to waste precious time reversing and then straightening the boat for a better angle before proceeding.
“Hold on. This is going to be tight,” he said. Looking at her tall figure, he added, “And you better duck.” Without enough room to accelerate to full speed, he did what he could and slammed the throttle to its stops. The motor revved, and the boat jerked forward. Gunshots hit around him, but he ignored them, pushing the “bow down” buttons on the trim tab controls as hard as he could and hoping the boat would go on plane before it hit.
There was a loud smash as they cleared the bridge. He didn’t dare look back, but he knew at a minimum the electronics on the roof were gone. Disregarding the speed limit, he continued past the low bridge and turned right into another canal, hoping Ironhead would take the bait. There was only one exit from the maze of canals, and if this didn’t work, they could easily be trapped.
The reassuring sound of metal on concrete carried over the night air.
Chapter Nine
Mac pulled back on the throttle, knowing the chase was over before it started. He looked up and saw stars shining where the T-top once would have shielded them. The stainless steel tubing remained, but the fiberglass cover and the antennae for all the electronics were gone. The boat would surely be noticed if he didn’t get out of here, but he needed to find Trufante first.
“It’s only rock ’n’ roll, Mac Travis.” Pamela grinned at him. “But I like it.”
She was bopping to another song in her head, and now he saw what connected her and Trufante—the need for trouble. “You know where that house of yours is from the water?”
“Barely from the street,” she said. “Had to use the maps app on my phone to find it. Tru thought he knew where it was, but he—”
Mac cut her off. “Pull it up,” he ordered.
“You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometime—you get what you need,” she continued on her Rolling Stones tribute, handing him the phone.
Mac looked at the dark screen and handed it back to her. “Can you help out here?”
She took it back and swiped her finger across the bottom, and
The engine started, and he risked a look up at the bow of Hawk’s ship. There were two men standing above him. From this angle, they were shielded by the flare of the bow, but the second he moved away from the dock, they would be exposed. With no choice, he went back to the helm and pulled the throttle back into reverse. Wincing as the engine cowling slammed into the dock, he pushed the handles down. The boat moved forward while he cut the wheel hard to the left, smashing the cowling against the other piling. Gunshots were fired, and he ducked behind the console, pulling the woman with him.
He was moving away from Hawk’s trawler now, staying close to the boats docked on his port side, using them for cover as he followed the slight bend in the canal. They were almost clear when he heard the sound of an outboard coming toward them. By the volume alone, he could tell it was moving faster than the posted no-wake speed limit. Thinking back, he realized he had only seen Wallace on the boat with Hawk. Ironhead must be in another boat, trying to trap them. Just as he thought it, a cabin cruiser turned the corner, and he could see the unique shape of Ironhead’s torso at the helm, silhouetted in the moonlight.
The boat was bigger than the center-console, and Mac tried to judge its height off the water. It would be close, but it just might work if they could get past Hawk without getting shot. He pushed down on the throttles and slammed the wheel to the right, hoping the hull could make the hundred-and-eighty-degree turn without smashing another boat. A large sportfisher encroached into the canal, forcing him to waste precious time reversing and then straightening the boat for a better angle before proceeding.
“Hold on. This is going to be tight,” he said. Looking at her tall figure, he added, “And you better duck.” Without enough room to accelerate to full speed, he did what he could and slammed the throttle to its stops. The motor revved, and the boat jerked forward. Gunshots hit around him, but he ignored them, pushing the “bow down” buttons on the trim tab controls as hard as he could and hoping the boat would go on plane before it hit.
There was a loud smash as they cleared the bridge. He didn’t dare look back, but he knew at a minimum the electronics on the roof were gone. Disregarding the speed limit, he continued past the low bridge and turned right into another canal, hoping Ironhead would take the bait. There was only one exit from the maze of canals, and if this didn’t work, they could easily be trapped.
The reassuring sound of metal on concrete carried over the night air.
Chapter Nine
Mac pulled back on the throttle, knowing the chase was over before it started. He looked up and saw stars shining where the T-top once would have shielded them. The stainless steel tubing remained, but the fiberglass cover and the antennae for all the electronics were gone. The boat would surely be noticed if he didn’t get out of here, but he needed to find Trufante first.
“It’s only rock ’n’ roll, Mac Travis.” Pamela grinned at him. “But I like it.”
She was bopping to another song in her head, and now he saw what connected her and Trufante—the need for trouble. “You know where that house of yours is from the water?”
“Barely from the street,” she said. “Had to use the maps app on my phone to find it. Tru thought he knew where it was, but he—”
Mac cut her off. “Pull it up,” he ordered.
“You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometime—you get what you need,” she continued on her Rolling Stones tribute, handing him the phone.
Mac looked at the dark screen and handed it back to her. “Can you help out here?”
She took it back and swiped her finger across the bottom, and
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