The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [127]
“But the boat is full of people …”
“Right. But look. We hit the trucks as they leave. Nobody at the boat can see the people at the bank. Not in this fog. So, what do we have there? We shoot, and anybody left alive in the truck either has to sit in the driver’s seat and get himself shot, jump off the unit, or hunker down in the damned thing and hide. Piece of cake. We can scarf them up.”
“Pointless,” said Volont. “That just leaves six hundred or more people on the boat.”
“But, unless Gabriel stays behind on the boat himself, if his peons hear that we just took off six of their finest, what are they going to do? Sink the boat? For what purpose? It’s tied up at the fuckin’ pier, for God’s sake. All the passengers have to do is walk off!”
“We always figure seventeen feet under the bottom,” said James. “That would swamp the oh-one deck, so all the passengers and crew would have to go to the second and upper deck. That could take some time.”
“But not enough for her to turn over, is there?”
“No, I don’t think so … look, let me get one of the captains here. He lives just up the street. Five minutes, and he can answer all your questions.” He picked up one of the phones.
“Anyway,” I said, “he can’t sink her instantly. To do that, he’d have to open up the whole bottom. Boom. Probably blow the boat right out of the water if he did that, and he’d kill and injure lots of people. Including the members of his own team. Even himself.”
“We can’t count on that.” But Volont was coming around.
“I think we can,” said George. “He’s not bluffing. But he’ll sink her slowly, because he has to. I mean, fifteen minutes, even … right? Getaway time …”
“That’s what I think,” I said. “And with them tied up at the pier for the winter months, all they have to do is walk off. What I’m saying is that I think it’s a risk we might be able to take. With the shock effect of taking out the trucks as they leave the bank.”
“Well, we better hurry,” said Hester, “whatever we do. I do know that those little bastards are about as busy as they can get, moving that money into the trucks. We aren’t going to have much more time, and we need the fog on our side for a while. I don’t know how long that stuff will last.”
Sally informed us that the chopper with the TAC team would be above Frieberg in two minutes. They reported zero visibility really near us, but could land on the bridge deck, which was above the fog ceiling.
Volont had been getting hold of himself gradually, since Gabriel’s first call. He began to speak with his old decisiveness.
“Have them set down on the bridge.” He indicated the playground that had been built for the kids who came with the gamblers. Summer only. “A two-man sniper team to the bridge ramp where they can command the best exit from the bank. Four to the boat. Have Alpha Chase pick ’em up. Leave the rest with the chopper.” He smiled. “Wouldn’t want anybody to steal our Huey.”
“I think they might be done at the boat,” said Hester. “We’re gonna need a decision pretty soon …”
I really thought that Volont was ready to take out the trucks. I really did. And he might have, if Gabriel hadn’t had another little surprise for us.
Twenty-five
Sunday, January 18, 1998, 1221
They’re pullin’ their ramp away from the boat,” said Hester. “I counted seven suspects coming off with the last load. They’re all getting in the van.”
Suddenly, there was a loud, double-cracking sound. It was accompanied by what looked to be a momentary ripple in the fog all around the General Beauregard. Weird sight.
“Jesus!” said Art. “They’re sinking it!”
“No … no … no, they’re not! Not yet, anyway.” Hester pointed, but I couldn’t make out what she was looking at. Not at first. But, then, as I watched, I could see the bow of the Beauregard slowly pull away from the pier, as the boat herself slipped slightly sternward, with the current. They had blown off the bollards and cleats from both ends of the boat.