Tidal Rage by David Evans (bill gates books to read txt) 📕

“You’d better go now, Tuck. I think they’re going to take him out with the car.” Colton urged.

Tuck pressed the gas pedal and moved the car towards Mick Hilton. Several seconds later, the target car pulled out and followed Mick Hilton at a short distance.

“The kid has to cross the road at the intersection to get the school bus; look, see the other kids down there? They’re going to nail him when he crosses,” Colton predicted.

Tuck increased the pressure on the gas at the same time the other car accelerated as Mick Hilton began to cross the street. Mick Hilton looked around to see the two cars veering towards him. He had been alerted by the second car continually using its horn to warn him. Mick Hilton froze there for a second.

Tuck’s car was now alongside the Buick, which sped towards the deer trapped in its headlights. The passenger window exploded suddenly as the bullet passed through the glass and embedded itself into Tuck’s headrest.

“These fuckers mean business!” shouted Colton, as tiny shards of glass cut his face.

Tuck side-shunted the vehicle, causing it to change its course slightly. The slight movement in the Buick caused its wheels to scrape along the kerb, and Tuck’s vehicle bounced off and he redirected back at the Buick with more force.

The Buick hit the kerb again, the force flipping it onto the empty sidewalk. Tuck yanked the wheel over to the right and hit the brakes. They stopped two yards ahead of the Hilton boy, and no more than a couple of feet to his side, Mick Hilton stood frozen to the spot in abject fear.

Tuck exited the vehicle and immediately ran over to the Buick as one of the assailants was dragging himself out of the upturned car, gun in hand. Quickly and efficiently, he stamped down on the gunman’s hand and snapped his wrist. He kicked the gun onto the sewer drain edge where it wobbled, then fell in. Tuck punched him once rendering the assailant unconscious.

Colton grabbed the Hilton boy and threw him into the back of his car, Tuck swerved the car back in the direction they had just come from. At the top of the hill Colton exited and closed the door, Tuck pressed down the lock button in case the boy suddenly bolted. He need not have bothered, as Mick Hilton just sat there dumbstruck.

Tuck gave Colton the address of the safe house MIDAS had leased in the area. He followed Tuck back to the address in his Mercedes.

The safe house was a bungalow on the outskirts of Palm Springs.

“Sit,” Tuck barked.

“Are you kidnapping me?”

“Look, kid, just shut up and listen to me. You haven’t been kidnapped; we just saved your life. The two guys in the Buick just tried to kill you,” Tuck informed him.

“But why?” came the stuttered response.

“Don’t be stupid, kid. You know why,” Colton interjected.

“Anytime you want to leave, you’re free to do so, but you’ll be dead within the day, you understand that, kid?” Tuck explained.

Mick Hilton just nodded, hoping this was nothing to do with the incident on-board the Large Pink Boat, but deep down he knew it was.

“We know you were involved in Don Ross’s death. What is more, we have proof from a ring we repossessed with your friend Bernard Rothhelm’s DNA on it,” Tuck qualified.

“Are you the police?” Mick Hilton inquired.

“We are not the police; we work for an organization called MIDAS that investigates suspicious deaths at sea. And Don Ross’s death on the Large Pink Boat was suspicious. Do you know we have statements from an Egyptian couple that saw you beating Don up?” detailed Tuck.

“And your friend knows we know. Guess what Daddy is doing to protect him?” Colton declared.

“Mr Rothhelm, Bernard’s dad, tried to have me killed?” stuttered Mick Hilton.

“He surely did and would have, had not my friend and I stepped in to save you. And as soon as you leave here, he is going to try again; maybe this time when you are with your mom. As I told you, we know you were involved in the killing of Don Ross, but we don’t know if you were dragged into this. We don’t believe you were the principal instigator,” Tuck continued while the blood drained away from Mick Hilton’s face.

“First one to come clean will get the chance to turn state’s evidence and get a much-reduced sentence,” Colton interjected.

“Reduced sentence; that means prison. I can’t go inside!” Hilton began to cry.

“You killed a man; you don’t get to walk away from that, kid. But you will not get the death penalty, and you will be young enough when you get out to still have a family. You may even get a light sentence for cooperating, depends on the state’s attorney.”

“My Mom will go ape,”

“If Rothhelm gets there first, your life is over. Make no mistake that right now his family knows what went on this morning and are already in conference with their attorneys.” Tuck spelled out his options as he turned on a recording device on the table.

“It started as a joke. Bernie saw this man having a cigarette at the back of the boat. We were the only ones around, ‘because there was some special show going on and nearly everyone was there. Bernie was bored, and we went looking for some fun,” Mick Hilton explained, as both Colton and Tuck listened intently.

“Bernie asked the guy for a smoke and he said to come back in about five years. Bernie picked up a stone ashtray from the table like he was offering it to the guy and then: whack, he hit the guy over the head with it! The guy went down like a sack of potatoes, and Bernie started to kick him. He shouted for me