The Rig 3: Eye of the Hurricane Read Free Page B

know his or her father.
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    Dave heard a noise behind him. Someone was coming down. He remembered there was another agent at work there and he felt panic grip him.
    “Goodbye....” Dave heard Smith say. He was behind the man. He saw the shoulder rise as he pointed the gun at Wes' heart. Acting on impulse, he threw himself forward. He slammed his shoulder into Smith's thighs, wrapped his arms around his legs and brought him down. The gun went off, but the bullet flew well wide. Dave was on his feet and hit Smith in the head. He took the gun and looked over at a stunned Wes and Sheila. “We need to go. The other one is coming.”
    Sheila kneeled down next to Akhmed and looked at the wound in his chest. She knew it was fatal. The blood flowed freely from the wound and with each second she watched him, his breathing grew more shallow. She took his hand in hers and held it. His fingers tensed around her hand. Finally, his breath stopped and his grip grew limp. He was gone.
    Wes grabbed her shoulder.
    “We have to go.”
    Dave checked Smith's motionless body for ammunition and other weapons. He found two more magazines, a small Remington in an ankle holster and a penknife. He put it all in his pocket and went over to his colleagues and the dead man.
    “Poor bastard.”
    “Yeah,” Wes said. “He did not deserve this.”
    Dave looked around as he heard a noise in the staircase. Another suited man showed up there, gun drawn. When he saw Smith on the deck and Dave with gun in hand, he fired. The bang reverberated around the docks. Dave dropped to a knee and fired at the man. The man took cover behind the opened door. Dave rolled behind a crate. His military training was serving him well for a change.
    He motioned to Wes and Sheila that they should hurry up and take cover, so they hid behind one of the research submarines. A bullet struck the metal of the hull. Dave fired back at the man and rolled again. He fired from a crouched position and moved further on to find cover behind another crate. He now had a clearer shot at the other shooter and aimed carefully. But the man was not an idiot and he fired once above his head, shooting out the lamp and covering himself in shade. He retreated a bit and moved over to the other side of the corridor. It took away any chance of a clean shot for Dave, who could only fire blindly back at the man in the suit. So he saved his fire, shooting only at the muzzle flashes of the gun.
     
    ***
     
    When Joy woke up, she was alone. It surprised her. She did not think Dave would have left her. At least not without a good reason. Slowly she sat up and felt at the back of her head. The wound there had been stitched, but there was a large swelling. She picked up the ice bag and laid it on the back of her head. She tried standing up and immediately fell back onto the bed. Her balance was completely gone. She saw stars dancing in front of her eyes. She closed them tightly and breathed deeply. Her head hurt like hell.
    After a few minutes, she tried to stand again. She did not know why, this place was as good a place to be as any, but something had woken her and she wanted to find out what. Her curious nature persisted even now in her unstable condition. She just had to find out what had woken her. Then she heard it. It was a vague noise which echoed through a room below her. It seemed to reverberate through the structure of ‘The City’ and drone on, only to stop for a while and then be repeated. There never used to be sounds like that on this rig, but everything was quiet now. There was only the distant roar of the oil fire and this noise.
    She managed to stand up and walked a few steps. Then she had to steady herself, leaning against the wall. The dancing stars came back and twinkled incessantly before her eyes. She squeezed them shut and held on to the door frame. After a few moments, she opened her eyes again. The stars disappeared. Joy walked another few steps and then she was