Veronica Topple and the Machine of Deluded Dreams

Chapter 6 - Doorway

Dealing with death was something I had never had to do before. Watching someone die right in front of me and being powerless to prevent it was not only disturbing, it deepened my hate for Doctor Preston. If I had the gun, I would have shot him and I would have kept shooting until I ran out of bullets, and if he was still alive after that, I'd find some other way to attack him until he stopped breathing. Such was my hatred of the man.

***

Trent held on tight to the bow rope, dragged along by the speed boat as it raced out to sea. He wasn't exactly sure what his plan was going to be, at first he wanted to take a look at the body they had been carrying to confirm if it was Veronica, but now, he wasn't sure. He suspected they were going to tie the body up in the net and then sink it to the bottom of the ocean with the heavy barbells. If that was the case, it would be difficult for him to identify the body, the water here was quite deep and if the body sank all the way, it was doubtful it would ever be recovered. He realised now that he would have to somehow overpower the two guards or the evidence would be gone forever.

While the guards had pistols, he only had a small pocket knife and he was intimately aware about the old expression about what you shouldn't bring a knife to. He now found himself cursing the captain's orders about taking no weapons on the assignment. Somehow, he would have to deal with the guards without getting shot. Pushing them overboard was probably his best shot.

The boat was still heading far out to sea when he received Mandy's notification that the tag had been placed. It was a relief when the boat pilot pulled the throttles back and the boat coasted to a gentle stop. He pealed back the suit that covered his arm and tagged his GPS position on his Tattoo, that way if he failed to recover the body, at least they might have a chance to find it. He could hear the guards struggling with the body and the net and then they began to argue about what was the best way to complete the task. While they kept rocking the boat with their heavy work, he slipped out of the water and couched down low on the kick board, waiting for his opportunity to act.

When he heard them struggling with the heavy weights at the edge of the boat, he sneaked a peak over the edge to see what they were up to. The body had been wrapped in the net and then tied with the rope at the waist, neck and knees. Another section of rope connected the body to a pole that they were now attaching the weights to. In the dim light, he assumed they were using a weight lifters bar and weights to send the body to the ocean floor. Once that barbell was rolled over the edge, the body would follow less than a second later.

Careful not to make a sound, he lifted himself up over the lip of the boats stern and slipped onto the deck. With the two men focused on their work, the failed to notice his presence, but that wouldn't last for long. He glanced at the controls and noticed the key were still in the ignition, that was one piece of luck. Not daring to wait any longer, her dashed to the other side and holstered the first guard over the edge before he knew what was happening. The other guard had a few seconds to react and reached for his gun. Trent tackled him to the ground, grabbing at his shooting arm and following up with a punch to the chin. A shot fired wildly into the night but by some miracle it missed entirely. Another punch to the cheek and the guy slumped his head back, dazed. He used the opportunity to disarm the man and then stood up.

"Over the side, now," he said, motioning with the gun. He could ear the other guard splashing around somewhere nearby. Getting the point, he got up and made as though he was about to comply but at the last second he pushed on the barbell, sending it over the edge before diving off himself. Perhaps he had panicked, and thought that if the evidence was gone he wouldn't do time for murder. Trent leapt at the body in a mad dash to prevent it from sinking to the bottom, but all that did was pull him to the edge of the boat. Wedging his feet against the port side of the deck and the body behind him, he heaved with all his strength to keep the body where it was. With his free hand, he reached for his pocket knife and began hacking at the rope. One second he felt like he was being crushed by the weight, the next he fell back against the deck and the body.