Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [43]
I dropped back down onto the electric railing and squatted there, keeping as low as I could. I used one hand on the top strip to balance myself and prayed that one black glove against the white concrete wasn’t going to give me away. It didn’t. The chopper swept on above me and banked away over the water of the inner harbour, preparing to come back. I stayed where I was for the moment and waited for him to set his course. This time he ran a line a hundred metres away from me between the shore and monorail lines. I scrambled back onto the concrete track and started running again.
I passed through the deserted Imbiah Station and on towards the bridge. The lights of the construction sites glared up at me. With these intense lights, plus the city lights and the moon, it was like a gloomy day rather than the dead of night. I had no choice but to run on. If I couldn’t get off the island before dawn I was in big trouble.
Twice, more choppers caused me to stop and hunch down, balancing on the electrical railing, but I was now beyond the construction area and just starting out over the water. It was maybe ten metres down to the tide. A long way to drop.
I guess that to think the police wouldn’t have sealed the bridge was naïve in the extreme. Of course they had sealed the bridge. I could see the lights of a dozen squad cars flashing like a Christmas parade across the water between VivoCity and the St James’ Power Station. What was my plan beyond this point? I didn’t have a plan. I took time out after the next chopper pass to try Sami again.
The fishing boat had been stopped by a police launch. Sami had ditched the night-vision glasses and everything else even slightly incriminating. He had, however, hidden the communicator in the hold. There was a substantial cargo of fish aboard and he was playing the role of a deck hand. Genuine papers were examined and after a quick five-minute rumble, the boat was allowed to sail on. They had no choice but to head back for Tuas. The police boats had totally blockaded Sentosa. I was well and truly on my own.
It was 03:45 and another chopper was coming from the Siloso end of the island. I was part way across the main channel. If I chose to go on and maybe get in the water and swim towards VivoCity, I could get out again over there. Then I had to avoid the police and get to safety. Or should I drop into the water now and swim into the madness of the container complex?
That particular decision made itself with the appearance of another chopper coming from the direction of Changi. Is this the one that will inevitably be geared with infrared and all the high-tech gear? Whatever, I was now going to be sandwiched between the twin spotlights, one coming from each direction. There was simply no place left to hide but in the water below.
It was a long way down, but I didn’t have a choice. I crossed my arms, and put my hands over my head to keep it and my communicator and headlight from being blown off on impact. For a moment I said a prayer of sorts. I’d dropped from Sea Kings in training but this was the highest I’d ever done it. Hell, it was a long way down. I stepped off the rail.
15
They say hitting the water from a great height is like landing on concrete. Well, the water sure as hell felt like concrete. The straps of the small pack on my back gouged into my armpits. Down I went, and down, and further down. I swear I felt the bottom for a second and then I was coming back up, slowly, so slowly.