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Acts of Nature

Acts of Nature

Titel: Acts of Nature Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Jonathon King
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on the balcony. Better view anyway.”
    “You guys are nuts.”
    “Yeah. But it was cool. The only time these days when you can look out to the east and not see any freighter or container ship lights out there waiting to get into the port,” Squires said. “And when the power went out, man, it was blackness all up and down the coast. Reminded me of jumping out the back of a C-one-thirty at twenty thousand feet over the desert. Very cool.”
    “If you say so, big man,” Harmon said.
    Squires took another long pull on his beer.
    “So where we goin’?”
    “Local job,” Harmon answered. “Boss wants us to catch a helicopter ride out over the Everglades. Says they’ve got some kind of a research facility out there that needs a storm assessment done. In his words: ‘Make sure it’s not exposed.’”
    Squires gave him a questioning eye.
    “Didn’t know we had a facility out in the Glades.”
    “Me neither. But the man seemed pretty concerned, you know, that tick in his voice that means somebody higher up the ladder is the one asking.”
    “Yeah. Everybody’s got someone up the line,” Squires said, finishing the beer. “So when we going?”
    “The pilot says he’s got to get his ship back out of the hangar after they broke it down and secured it for the storm. We’re looking at tomorrow morning, earliest,” Harmon said. “It’s out at the regular site at Executive Airport. You can get out there all right?”
    Squires nodded.
    “We taking anything special?”
    “This place is supposed to be empty. So just pack your standard inspection gear. Shouldn’t take us more than a few hours. You’ll be back for happy hour.”
    “Sounds like a good day to me,” Squires said and again raised his hand. “Elma!”

NINETEEN
    By the time they got to their next target, the boys were drunk.
    They’d been sitting up behind Buck in the wind and noise of the airboat passing the Van Gogh vodka back and forth and giggling. Buck had his earplugs in and never bothered looking around. He was focused on the GPS coordinates and planning out in his head how he was going to unload the guns they’d stolen from the last place. It was a nice haul overall, but instead of maybe calling it a day and figuring they’d done well for themselves, Buck just kept pushing on, a little giddy himself over how well this idea was all coming out. They hadn’t seen another boater or even an airplane since they’d left the docks. It was like one of those neutron bombs had gone off, killing everything and leaving the world just for their picking. Hell, they had two or three thousand dollars worth of stuff on board already. The guns themselves should go for two if that greaser Bobby didn’t try to rip him off. Buck knew that the middleman had the advantage of knowing how much he hated dealing with firearms. Fucker would lowball him and Buck would end up taking less than he should just to get rid of the stuff. The guns made him nervous just thinking about them stacked below. But the tenseness wasn’t strong enough to throw him off his euphoria. Christ, if they picked up another score like the last one, maybe he’d be on his way to Hendry County in a couple of weeks.
    When they’d gotten within a mile of the next fishing camp, Buck spotted the hard edges of a building out on the gray horizon and pointed to it with one hand, not knowing that his crew behind him was more interested in the vodka and its effect on their fuddled equilibrium than on his navigation. He wove his way through some low sawgrass and stayed out on the gaps of open water as best he could while maintaining a fairly straight trajectory toward the camp. As before, he started running a scenario through his head just in case they pulled up to some owner or even a local checking out the damages. Rescuers, he’d decided. We’re just out here looking to see if anyone needed help, was possibly stranded or hurt. Good Samaritans was what they were.
    But as he steered closer, coming in now from the northwest, Buck could see that no cover story was going to be necessary. The hard angles he’d seen from a distance were now forming up to be one single wall, the only one that remained standing. The rest of the place was trashed. The neutron bomb. No survivors.
    Buck pulled back the throttle and turned around, catching his assistants playing some kind of preteen thumb-wrestling game and smiling like a couple of idiots out at the forensics unit for the criminally insane at

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