The Einstein Pursuit

64

Payne knew from the reconnaissance file that Raskin had produced — which included everything from satellite footage to construction blueprints — that the house had a stairwell just off the main hallway leading down to the boathouse. As they pushed through the lower door, Payne saw what he was looking for. The boathouse stored a jet boat in its covered dock. Payne smashed the lockbox mounted on the wall nearby with the butt of his gun and tossed the keys to Jones.

‘Get them out of here,’ ordered Payne, whose main priority was bringing Berglund to safety and Zidane to justice. He would stay behind and cover their escape to make sure they got away.

‘You’re taking a later train?’ Jones asked.

‘Not quite,’ Payne said as he pointed through the open waterfront doors of the boathouse. ‘I’m taking one of those.’

Jones turned to see the opulent yacht that was parked alongside Zidane’s dock at the front of his estate. Two WaveRunners were suspended in cradles on the aft deck. These high-speed personal watercrafts could be lowered to the lake by a small crane that was also used for loading palates of food and other supplies.

‘Nah, man, screw that!’

‘Screw what?’

‘You get to zip out of here on a water Harley, and I’m stuck chauffeuring a white dude across the lake like I’m Morgan Freeman in Driving Miss Daisy? What kind of racist bullshit is that?’

‘First of all, you’re Morgan Freeman with a gun, which is pretty bad ass.’

‘True.’

‘Secondly, I’m your commanding officer, and I say—’

‘Wait! You’re my what? I hate to break it to you, but we’re retired.’

‘Retired? We just jumped out of military plane and shot a squad of armed men. That doesn’t sound like retired to me.’

Jones growled as if he were going to turn the situation into a standoff, but only for a moment. As much as he loved to give Payne a hard time, he knew when to relent.

‘Fine!’ Jones snapped as he jumped into the open bow and shoved Zidane toward the front of the boat. ‘But you’re driving. That’s right, Miss Daisy, I’m your worst nightmare. I’m Hoke with a fuckin’ gun.’

Payne laughed as he pushed the boat away from the dock.

‘No funny stuff,’ Jones warned as he tapped the steering wheel with his pistol. ‘Head north, and don’t stop unless I tell you to. Understood?’

Zidane nodded.

‘What about me?’ Berglund asked.

‘Stay low and stay out of my way,’ Jones replied.

‘I’ll try.’

The boat was not designed for safety; it was made for excitement. Its gunnels were no more than eighteen inches above the water and offered little protection to hide behind. Even slouched as low as he could go, Berglund’s head and shoulders were still exposed.

‘You’ve got ten minutes to catch up,’ Jones shouted to Payne as the boat floated toward the open water. ‘Any longer and I’m coming back to save your ass.’

‘From what?’

‘From yourself.’

Payne smiled and retreated toward the door as the jet boat’s engine roared to life. A moment later, Zidane dropped the throttle and the boat rocketed forward like a dragster at the starting line. The sound was so loud it attracted the attention of every surviving guard on the property, which was exactly what Payne had been hoping for.

The more he killed on land, the less he would have to worry about on water.

Payne steadied himself at the bottom of the stairwell. The passage was narrow, forcing people to descend one at a time. It was the perfect chokepoint for Payne to lie in wait.

When the door finally opened, three of Cole’s soldiers hustled down the tunnel in succession. Payne peeked around the bottom corner of the stairwell and opened fire. His first bullet caught the lead man in the throat — an instant kill shot. In the close quarters, the remaining men were unable to raise their weapons in time. Payne leveled his pistol and squeezed the trigger again. The second man fell dead and tumbled forward, which left the third standing in the clear. Payne fired once more, and the confrontation was over a few seconds after it had begun.

Payne took a deep breath and checked his ammo. As he did, he heard the distinctive roar of the jet boat moving farther and farther away. Payne assumed everything was fine until he heard a second engine rumble to life. Then another. Then two more. Suddenly concerned, he sprinted back into the boathouse and peaked outside toward the source of the sound.

In front of the mansion, four more WaveRunners were being launched from a hidden hold in the stern of the yacht. Payne cursed loudly as he watched four gunmen speed away in pursuit of Jones’s jet boat. He knew that with three passengers on board, it wouldn’t have the speed to keep its distance from the lighter, faster WaveRunners.

His friend was about to be out-paced, out-manned, and out-gunned.

In the early-morning light, Jones could see Zidane’s villa growing smaller and smaller in the distance. They were almost a mile away, but they were by no means safe. Not yet. Not with four WaveRunners closing in on them.

‘We can’t outrun them,’ Jones announced.

‘Of course not,’ Zidane replied in a smarmy tone. ‘You’re only prolonging the inevitable.’

‘I don’t need the commentary,’ Jones shouted back. ‘Just keep driving.’

He knew Zidane was right. The WaveRunners would eventually catch them, and when they did he would have no choice but to engage in a one-sided firefight from a boat that offered very little protection.

Jones heard the telltale pop-pop-pop-pop-pop of an automatic rifle, but the riders in pursuit were unable to compensate for the WaveRunners’ heaving motion as they sped over the swells and whitecaps on the lake. A series of tiny splashes erupted in the water to the side of the jet boat as the bullets fell harmlessly wide of their target. Another round whizzed by overhead. Range was not the issue for the high-powered assault rifles; it was their aim that could not be controlled.

In the midst of the gunfire, Jones watched as the lead soldier suddenly tilted his weight and veered sharply. The action caused the nose of the watercraft to dip below the surface, which in turn forced the rear into the air. A massive plume of water sprayed from the vehicle and soaked the two soldiers to his left. He then repeated the action in the other direction and doused the soldier to his right. Now that he had everyone’s attention, he swung his gun from one side to the other, squaring the men in his sights while violently shaking his head.

‘Why’d they stop?’ Berglund asked as he brazenly stuck his head up to see what was happening behind him. Ever the scientist, he deemed the reward of knowledge greater than the risk of being shot in the face.

‘One of them just figured out that if they shoot Miss Daisy, they’ll be going home without a paycheck,’ Jones explained. ‘But don’t worry, they’re still trying to kill us.’

‘On the contrary,’ Zidane said. ‘Tomas is of great importance to me. His life is to be spared at all costs. I’m afraid that the only person they’re trying to kill is you.’