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  CHAPTER 8

  Shi tried to follow the limo to the port, but on the route they took there was minor traffic. She couldn’t believe it. The limo simply drove too fast for her to keep up on a petty cab, no matter how hard she peddled. So she stopped and picked up a tourist map at a brochure rack by a casino. She rode to the places on the map with pictures of boats. Unfortunately, the first place was for the ferry to Hong Kong. The second place was took her by a bunch of fishing boats moored in the bay. She didn’t see any cargo ships anywhere. There was no question that Sevastopol was a freighter.

  Shi saw a cop pulled over on his motorcycle, so she stopped the petty cab and approached him. “Excuse me, sir,” she said in English. “I’m looking for the container yard.”

  He shook his head as if confused. “What are you looking for?”

  “The docks for the cargo ships.”

  He shook his head. “Not many cargo ships here. You look for ferry to Hong Kong?”

  “No, sir. I’m in a big hurry. I know there’s cargo ships. Big containers, you know. The docks. Big cranes.”

  “Oh, yes, I see. It is very small. You have map?”

  She gave him her tourist map, and he circled a location.”

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

  She looked at the map as she rode. She saw a shortcut between two commercial buildings, so she took it.

  Four punks saw her coming and cut her off. She braked the petty cab and stopped ten feet away. They started walking toward her. In Chinese, the one with tattoos on his neck said, “Look here. Someone sent me a present. I’m gonna enjoy this.”

  Shi pulled her 9mm. handgun and aimed it at him

  “Get away from me or I’ll start shooting. You first.”

  “Whoa!”

  “Apologize.”

  “Calm down, lady.”

  Another one said, “This chick is crazy. Chill out.”

  “Run!”

  “What?”

  “Run and maybe I won’t gun you down like a trash target.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “That’s it, you’re target practice.” She straightened her arm.

  They turned and ran.

  She peddled until she got to the circle on the map. She stood at the gate and couldn’t believe her eyes. There were two dozen cargo containers, but no ships in sight. “No way. No way.” She checked her watch. “Seven minutes,” she said. “There’s no more time.”

  Then she saw an armed man walk out from behind a cinderblock building. If he’d been wearing a uniform, it wouldn’t have meant a thing to her. Where she came from, armed soldiers were a common sight, but an armed man here didn’t seem right. They didn’t even have the gates locked. This container yard was so insignificant that even the local cop barely knew of it. There was no Sevastopol and no Utopia, but there were two barges and an armed guard. What was he guarding?

  She walked down there and approached him. He wore sunglasses and a black jacket with bugs in the buttons. He gave her the creeps, but she walked right up to him. “Excuse me, Sir.”

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’m lost.”

  “Well, get out of here. That’s your problem.”

  “Please, can you just show me where the Big Cat Casino is?” She handed him her map.

  “Alright, alright.” He let his silenced submachine gun fall and hang by its shoulder strap.

  She pulled her pistol. “Alright, that’s enough. Put your gun on the ground.”

  “You tramp. I’ll kill you.”

  “I’ve met men like you before. I’ll use this. Do it.”

  He did.

  “Get over there behind those containers.”

  She picked up his gun as she followed him. She didn’t get too close. She’d been well trained in self-defense and knew how dangerous a man could be—especially a man like this.

  “That’s far enough.”

  He turned around. “I’ve had enough of this, Sweetheart. Now give me that gun back. He lunged at her and tackled her. She pulled the trigger as she fell. He rolled off of her—holding his gut. “You lousy tramp.”

  She walked toward the barge. It wasn’t the first time she’d been forced to shoot a man. Under the circumstances, she didn’t have time think about it.

  There didn’t seem to be any action on the barges. She saw nobody else.

  A gunman walked out on the deck and lit up a smoke, but someone came and called him back inside.

  Shi walked over the first barge and walked up the board that was serving as a gangplank.

  Both barges had a pilot house and accommodations astern. By the superstructure, she saw an open door. She went in. There were four little cabins. Chuck was not there.

  Shi heard the thumping of an approaching helicopter.

  Back outside, she saw a manhole on the deck with a ladder down into the hold. There were lights on down there, so she descended the ladder.

  What she saw shocked her.

  Ten missiles were stacked in two rows of five.

  But the most shocking part was that Chuck was tied to the first missile.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, but we’re about out of time. Can you untie me?”

  “Yes.”

  The sound of the helicopter was very loud now. It was nearby.

  She tried to loosen the rope but struggled. “They’re too tight.”

  “I held my breath when they tied me up,” Chuck said, “When I exhale, I’ll suck in my stomach. Try then.”

  She struggled again. “I think I’ve got it…Yes, I do.” It took another minute to loosen the coils.

  Chuck tried to stand up, but his legs were totally numb and he collapsed. “How much time have we got?”

  “Five minutes, forty-seconds.”

  Chuck stood up and leaned on the closest missile. He took a couple of steps. “Okay, let’s go.” He walked slowly as he got his circulation back.

  They climbed the ladder and emerged on the deck of the barge. The helicopter was just coming in for a landing in the container yard. Gigante and a couple of henchmen were standing out there.

  “Give me your gun,” Chuck said to Shi. “Alright, get down behind the ropes.” The three-inch mooring ropes were piled two feet high.

  Chuck took a few shots at the helicopter, but it had bullet proof glass. The henchmen opened fire on him. Chuck nailed both of them, but the helicopter dropped down in front of Gigante, protecting him. Chuck rose and broke into a sprint for the helicopter. It was starting to lift off.

  Chuck grabbed onto a skid. He was hanging as it rose. He did a pull-up, but he pulled himself up enough to get an arm over the skid. Then he threw a leg over. Then he was sitting on the skid. He looked down.

  It was a hundred foot fall. Gigante was smiling at him and yelling at the pilot. Then the pilot started tipping the bird, making jerky moves, sudden drops and rises.

  Banking left. Banking right.

  Chuck was holding on for his life. Once he tried to open the door, but it was locked. He pulled his gun and opened fire on the lock. He sprung the door open and aimed his pistol at Gigante.

  “Move over!”

  Fear swam in Gigante’s eyes. He moved over.

  Chuck climbed in. “Give me that nuclear football.” It looked like a leather briefcase, but it was opened up, and the electronic device inside had red buttons to detonate nukes.

  “Okay, just don’t shoot.”

  Gigante handed it over, but just as Chuck accepted it, Gigante batted Chuck’s gun hand away and used all his weight to try and shove Chuck back out of the helicopter.

  Three hundred and fifty pounds was too much to stop, but Chuck grabbed onto his wrist.

  Chuck was hanging outside by Gigante’s wrist—the same hand that was still clinging to the nuclear football. Gigante wa
s hanging half way out the door. His other hand was holding onto the seat.

  Then he let go and tried using his free hand to deliver fist blows at Chuck’s hands.

  The panicked pilot tried once again to shake Chuck off but it was a fatal mistake. It threw Gigante’s weight off balance. The big man fell out of the helicopter.

  They were both falling toward the water.

  Chuck let go of Gigante’s wrist.

  Chuck did a slow flip and stretched his arms out in front of him in diving position to break the water.

  Gigante hit a moment before Chuck, creating a massive cannonball splash.

  Chuck hit the water like a high diver, breaking the surface with his hands to soften the blow to his head. The splash was minimal. He shot down what felt like twenty or thirty feet then swam upward. As he broke the surface he gasped for air. For about thirty seconds, he practically hyperventilated. Then he started looking around for Gigante, but the big man was nowhere to be seen. Gigante and the nuclear football had sunken together.

  Chuck swam for shore.

  CHAPTER 9

  As Chuck approached the shore, he rose from three-feet of water and stood up. He saw flashing lights on a motorcycle. It was the same cop who had pulled him over earlier. As Chuck walked up the beach, Shi ran up to him and hugged him. Next thing Chuck knew he was kissing her.

  “Hey, you have a call,” the cop yelled.

  Chuck walked toward him with his arm around Shi. The cop waited by his bike.

  “I thought I watched you die,” the cop said. “For a minute, I thought you were dead. That’s what I told him.”

  Chuck looked around. “Told who?”

  “Your friend Lawrence.” The cop picked up his radio, which was on his seat. He handed the mic to Chuck and said, “The department patched him in.”

  Chuck squeezed the button on the mic. “Brandt here.”

  Lawrence said, “What are you doing over there? You are crazy. The cop told me you’d fallen out of a helicopter and died in the Bay of Macau. Then he told me someone was swimming. I thought you were dead. Now I’m talking to you.”

  “Yeah, well, I was always a fan of cliff diving.”

  “What about the nuclear football?”

  “It’s gone sir. I’ll get diving equipment and look for it tonight.”

  “What do you mean tonight?”

  “Night diving. Flashlight.”

  “You really do need therapy, Chuck. I’m going to talk to an agency shrink and see if she can help you.”

  “Don’t waste your time. I don’t trust those people.”

  “Now I know you need therapy. Don’t worry, Chuck. I’m going to get you the help you need.”

  “I appreciate it.” Chuck handed the mike to the cop. “I think he wants to talk to you.”

  Holding Shi’s hand, Chuck walked toward the petty cab.

  He heard the cop saying, “Jail? No, sir. He paid his fine.”

  Chuck helped Shi into the passenger seat of the petty cab.

  She fumbled in her purse and put on some red lipstick.

  Chuck said, “You know, I’m tired of the helicopter tours. How’d you like to go scuba diving?”

  She nodded. “Okay, Chuck. Whatever you say.”

  THE END

  Thank you for reading Global Tilt. I hope you enjoyed it!

  Continue reading the Brandt series here:

  Vulcan Eye: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 7)

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