The Rig 3: Eye of the Hurricane by Steve Rollins Read Free Book Online Page A

bastards.”
    Joy nodded again and closed her eyes. “I'm not sure how much use I will be, but I'm helping.”
     
    ***
     
    Garcia was the first to wake up. His head was throbbing. He felt the back of his head gingerly. No blood, but there was a nasty bruise where Joy had hit him with the pipe. He blinked and carefully found his feet. He balanced himself by holding on to the wall and blinked again. His vision was troubled, but cleared up with every second he stood on his feet. Moments later, he managed to take a step and he took his hand off the wall. He checked the holster at his waist and then the one at his ankle. He looked around, but his guns were gone.
    He walked into the dock and squatted down by his colleague. He placed his fingers on his neck and checked his pulse. It was normal. Garcia sat himself down on one of the crates and rested his head in his hands. Smith would be alright, but this mission was turning into a nightmare. The only thing they had had to do was make sure their patsy, Akhmed Hussain Abbasi, was cleared away so he could not betray them. All that they had been intended for was to be a safety net, but now the safety net had to be used. Even worse, the safety net had itself made things worse. He knew Smith had blabbed, and he knew they would now have to deal with those three people and the person who had knocked him down.
    Smith groaned, but did not wake up. Garcia was glad for it. He did not want to deal with his colleague right now. His withdrawal symptoms had been bad, but since they had stopped – for reasons Garcia could guess only too well – he had gotten worse. He was out of control, and maybe he should end Smith here. It would not be like anyone would ask any questions of him, given the monumental failure of the mission. But he shook his head and dismissed it. He would not shy away from the actions required if it came to it, but for now he would put up with Smith. He could use his help hunting down the small group of souls they needed to eliminate. And if there was any killing to be done, he would prefer to leave that to Smith.
    He figured the four who had been here would have fled from the area and taken refuge somewhere in ‘The City’. He tried to recall the maps of the rig, trying to find a place they would hide out. There was no place that sprang to mind. He figured for a moment on them going back to their own apartments. He would have to find out who they were and where they resided. Then he threw out the idea. They would not be that stupid. Smith groaned again, waking Garcia from his thoughts.
     
     
    Chapter Eleven
     
    Elly was again dressed to the nines. She felt dirty doing it, but she needed to wheedle as much information from Senator Jacobs as she could. She had no idea how else she could find out the information she needed. Akhmed's life was obviously in danger, and his good name even more so. She had promised Helen she would find out what was happening, and she was determined to keep that promise.
    The senator had sent a limousine to pick her up from her place and she got into it with some sense of trepidation. She had researched Senator Adam Jacobs earlier and found some news files that did not particularly put her at ease. For one, the man seemed to have been charged with rape and sexual assault several times. How the hell had he kept his office for so long? He always got off, of course, even in the face of overwhelming evidence. And Elly knew she was pretty much inviting his attentions. There was no one to help her out if things went tits-up.
    Some of the stories had been pretty awful and she could barely believe them to be true. She figured some of it might have been his political enemies trying to destroy him by urging the victims to make it into something worse than it was, but really, there was no need if the stories even had a core of truth.
    One of the victims had testified in court that Jacobs had abducted her and locked her in his apartment before letting his