Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [45]
I lobbed the remaining parts of the automatic away from me at intervals. I was now at a section of dock where there was nothing moored, but there were vessels in the harbour both coming and going. I could see across the two or three hundred metres of water to the far shore.
Across the channel there were ships lined up as far as I could see from my low vantage point. There were some gaps along the face of the wharf, but not many. A container ship was leaving, being manoeuvred into the middle of the harbour by a pair of busy tugs. However, there were at least two other vessels I could see waiting to dock. Christ, I was going to have to try and swim across with all that fucking traffic on the move.
A police patrol boat was moving along the far shore, a spotlight playing on the water. Were they looking for me or was it a normal patrol? Only they knew. Somehow, I was going to have to get across this busy piece of water, but once I’d done that, where the hell would I head to?
The communicator stuttered in my ear.
“Daniel?” The voice was faint.
“I can just hear you, Sami.”
“We’re driving back to the city. Where are you?”
“In the container basin between Brani and the mainland.”
“Well done.”
“Maybe; I’ve got to get across and through the container park and then what?”
“We’ll stay in the area. Call when you can.”
“Roger,” I responded. Putting first things first, I would get across to the other side and worry about what came next when I got there. The police boat had gone to the bridge and vanished from my limited line of vision. I guessed its beat would bring it back down my way. I would let it go past and then start for the far side. While I waited for the launch to arrive, my attention was drawn to the skyline across the water. There were several tall blocks of flats beyond the container farm. That gave me an aiming point, both while I swam and as a possible destination when I got across.
The searchlight on the police launch came stabbing beyond the bow of the ship to my left. I eased back into the dark and put a pillar between the boat and me. The light flared off the water as it probed the shadows under the wharf and was gone. The boat’s idling motor was barely audible over the other sounds of the port.
When the launch was gone, I started for the lights on the hill. My watch told me it was 04:35. Dawn was not a long way off and unless I found shelter and a change of clothes before then, I was going to get caught.
“The money has arrived in Singapore. You have made the necessary arrangements?”
“Yes,” Thomas Lu lied. He had no intention of telling Carlos Mendez that Stanley Loh’s death hadn’t handed them the large chunk of the Intella pie they so badly wanted.
“Good,” Mendez responded. “Raymond is flying in tomorrow. He is staying at a hotel called The Fullerton and he will contact you when he lands.”
Thomas Lu felt his blood run cold. Raymond Mendez was the youngest of the brothers, and arguably the craziest. In his brief time in Bogota, Lu had learned to fear him. In a warehouse owned by the brothers he had seen the aftermath of a session where Raymond Mendez had tortured and later dismembered a police informant with a chainsaw. Mendez apparently had been laughing the whole time he was wielding the saw.
At the time, Lu knew he had been shown the macabre scene as a warning of what would happen if he had any thoughts about double-crossing the brothers. Now, the fact that the Mendez cartel had sent Raymond to look after their Singapore business interests did not bode well for Thomas Lu.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, Carlos, Raymond is arriving tomorrow and staying at The Fullerton.” For a moment the absurdity of a psychopathic low-life like Raymond Mendez staying in one of Singapore’s grandest hotels caused Thomas Lu to stifle a laugh