Without remorse - Tom Clancy [2]
'Okay,' Kelly said and fired off a flare. Another boat started tossing small explosive charges into the water to drive the fish away from the area. He watched and waited for five minutes, then looked at the safety man.
'Area's clear.'
'Fire in the hole,' Kelly said, repeating the mantra three times more. Then he twisted the handle on the detonator. The results were gratifying. The water around the legs turned to foam as the rig's legs were chopped off bottom and top. The fall was surprisingly slow. The entire structure slid off in one direction. There was an immense splash as the platform hit, and for one incongruous moment it appeared as though steel might float. But it couldn't. The see-through collection of light I-beams sank below sight, to rest right on the bottom, and another job was done. '
Kelly disconnected the wires from the generator and tossed them over the side.
'Two weeks early. I guess you really wanted that bonus,' the executive said. A former Navy fighter pilot, he admired a job well and quickly done. The oil wasn't going anywhere, after all. 'Dutch was right about you.'
"The Admiral is a good guy. He's done a lot for Tish and me.'
'Well, we flew together for two years. Bad-ass fighter jock. Good to know those nice things he said were true.' The executive liked working with people who'd had experiences like his own. He'd forgotten the terror of combat somehow. 'What's with that? I've been meaning to ask.' He pointed to the tattoo on Kelly's arm, a red seal, sitting up on his hind flippers and grinning impudently.
'Something we all did in my unit,' Kelly explained as offhandedly as he could.
'What unit was that?'
'Can't say.' Kelly added a grin to mute the refusal.
'I bet it's something to do with how Sonny got out - but okay.' A former naval officer had to respect the rules. 'Well, the check'll be in your account by the end of the business day, Mr Kelly. I'll radio in so your wife can pick you up.'
Tish Kelly was glowing her me-too look at the women in The Stork Shop. Not even three months yet, she could wear anything she wanted - well, almost. Too soon to shop for anything special, but she had the free time and wanted to see what the options were. She thanked the clerk, deciding that she'd bring John here in the evening and help him pick something out for her because he liked doing that. Now it was time to pick him up. The Plymouth wagon they'd driven down from Maryland was parked right outside, and she'd learned to navigate the streets of the coastal town. It was a nice break from the cold autumn rain of their home, to be here on the Gulf Coast where the summer was never really gone for more than a few days. She brought the wagon onto the street, heading south for the oil company's huge support yard. Even the traffic lights were in her favor. One changed to green in such a timely fashion that her foot didn't even have to touch the brakes.
The truck driver frowned as the light changed to amber. He was late, and running a little too fast, but the end of his six-hundred-mile run from Oklahoma was in sight. He stepped on the clutch and brake pedals with a sigh that abruptly changed to a gasp of surprise as both pedals went all the way to the floor at the same speed. The road ahead was clear, and he kept going straight, downshifting to cut speed, and frantically blowing his diesel hom. Oh God, oh God, please don't -
She never saw it coming. Her head never turned. The station wagon just jumped light through