by Jon Mills
The cruiser careened around turns, and he shot through intersections causing a three-car pile-up. Yet at no point did he slow down. He gunned the engine as hard as he could and blasted through the rolling streets of the city, glancing at the clock every few seconds.
Over the radio he could hear dispatch calling for squad cars to head to the lot he’d just come from. He stayed focused and smashed his foot against the accelerator. Cold air rushed in through the open window. From the corner of his eye, Jack watched stores whizzing past his window. The road curved as he followed it around on I-280. He weaved in and out of traffic and at times hit the hard shoulder to pass even the fastest on the road.
Jack veered off the Embarcadero; the cruiser soared over the curb and through into Pier 39. Shocked onlookers jumped out of the way to avoid getting hit as he narrowly charged through a throng of pedestrians to get to dockside. Considered one of the most popular tourist attractions in the city, for its shops, restaurants, video arcade, street performances and aquarium, the location was a busy hub day and night. He jerked the wheel and brought the vehicle to a stop at an angle. A minute later, he was stuffing the Glock into the back of his waistband and double-timing it towards a line of white yachts and powerboats.
His boots pounded the wooden boardwalk that snaked its way past a two-story carousel. The sound of rock music seeped from behind bar doors. Bright neon lights from stores, attractions and rides distracted many from the sight of his sweaty appearance as he sprinted towards the boats.
Jack’s eyes scanned the array of vessels, seeking out the fastest.
In the distance two young guys in their mid-thirties were sitting on a powerboat, drinking beer and yukking up a storm when he came rushing towards them. He yanked the gun from the small of his back and launched himself off the dock onto the stern.
The boat bounced. A startled look of fear fixed on their faces spoke volumes.
Jack bellowed out commands. “You, start the boat, and you, get the fuck off!”
“Man, don’t shoot, I’ve got a wife and kids.”
He threw up his hands and scrambled over the lip onto the dock and backed away.
“Look, just take the boat. It’s not even mine, it’s his.”
“Start it!”
“I don’t want to die.”
“Then you better get this shit mobile moving, now!”
The engine growled to life, letting out a guttural roar. Frothy waters lapped up against the back as it broke away heading out into the darkness of the vast bay. A fine spray of mist coming off the surface settled on Jack’s face. The young man cast a glance over his shoulder as Jack dropped the bag and took a few seconds to catch his breath.
“Where are we going?”
Jack scooped up a beer from the open cooler, cracked it open and gulped it down.
“Alcatraz Island.”
Chapter 35
The notorious federal prison on Alcatraz Island cut into the night, a concrete silhouette of aged buildings full of the ghosts of history. In the distance, the Golden Gate Bridge arced across the bay as the powerboat bounced over the waves. Chilly waters thrashed against the jagged rocks and lapped up the sides of the boat as they got closer to the docking area. A strobe light washed out from the lighthouse that loomed above the prison. The penitentiary had closed down in early 1963, after operating for twenty-nine years and housing some of the most infamous mobsters and criminals including Al Capone, George “Machine Gun” Kelly, Robert Stroud aka “The Birdman of Alcatraz,” James “Whitey” Bulger and many others.
Now run by the National Park Service, it had become a piece of history, catering to millions of curious visitors each year by offering tours of the island in the day and a couple of visits at night.
The whole place gave Jack an eerie feeling of the isolation he endured on Rikers Island.
Along the way the guy kept asking if Jack was going to kill him. He didn’t reply in order to keep him compliant. As they got closer, Jack fully expected to see security. He cast a glance at his watch; it was just after 8:20 at night. It had taken less than ten minutes to arrive.
“The ferry, how long will that be there?”
“The last one departs at 9:25.”
“So there are still people here. How many?”
“Anywhere from thirty to a couple of hundred.” He scrutinized Jack. “Are you a terrorist?”
He didn’t respond. His mind was focused on what Earl had planned. Whatever he was up to, he sensed this was the end of the line. He figured he would have seen security as they closed in on the island but there was none. Something was amiss. The guy eased off the throttle and brought the boat up alongside the dock on the southeastern side. “Do me favor, contact the Coast Guard when you get back. Tell them to get in touch with Captain Dickson of the San Francisco Police Department. Tell him this is where it ends.” Jack climbed out and before he even had his last foot out, the boat tore away. The guy looked back, his face a mask of fear. Jack chuckled. He didn’t blame the guy. In all the time he’d been boating what had occurred tonight must have been the strangest shit he’d ever encountered.
Jack turned towards Building 64, a three-story building block that once was used for housing correctional officers and their families. It was in a shabby state, nothing more than an empty shell of peeling cream paint and crumbling concrete that had fallen into disrepair. A large sign posted at the front had the words:
UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY.
Alcatraz Island. Area 12 acres. 1½ miles to transport dock. Only government boats permitted. Others must keep off 200 yards. No one allowed ashore without a pass.
Below that was a gift shop, an information booth and a bookstore. Off to the left, and higher up the island was the dilapidated remains of the Warden’s House and lighthouse. To his right, a tall guardhouse and more buildings with floodlights. A cold breeze swept in off the bay.
Jack’s eyes looked over the buildings. Where is everyone?
He was immediately struck by the fact that there was absolutely no one around. There should have at least been a tour guide, or a few tourists wandering. Nothing. He turned back to the ferry which was empty, and then looked further up a path that wound a quarter of a mile to the top of the island where the penitentiary loomed overhead. Jack slung the duffel bag strap over his shoulder and adjusted the gun concealed in his waistband before trekking on.
He hadn’t made it a few feet when the sound of a phone could be heard. Although he couldn’t see it, he was certain it was coming from farther up the road. He hurried, his legs burning as he climbed the steep incline. As the road curved around up towards the penitentiary, he spotted a white cell phone on the ground. Jack eyed the surrounding buildings. The place chilled him to the bone. Where was he? Did he have a gun aimed at him?
In the distance, he could hear music, the sound of classical. Beethoven? Bach?
Jack scooped up the phone and answered it.
“Having fun, Jack?” Earl said without missing a beat.
“Where are you?”
“Nearby. Keep walking and stay on the phone.”
Jack passed by chain-link fences with barbed wire along the top. He could hear seagulls screeching as they wheeled overhead. A heavy fog moved in bringing with it a light rain.
“I saw you killed the officer, nicely done. You know, Jack, I think you’d find you and I are quite alike.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“I kill, you’ve killed. How are we any different?”
“You kill for the fun of it.”
He laughed. “Come now, you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy killing?”
“I’ll enjoy killing you.”
That made him laugh even harder. “Oh I do like a challenge.”
“How about you cut the shit and show your face?”
“Like I said, in due time. Which reminds me, you know I told you not to speak to anyone.”
“You also told me to steal a boat. What was I supposed to do? I picked th
e first one I saw.”
“Do you like to break the rules, Jack?”
Jack couldn’t wait to get his hands on this asshole. He ground his teeth as he pressed forward. His boots slapped against wet concrete.
“She better be alive. Put her on.”
“Don’t act like them, Jack, you’re not one of them.”
“Put her on.”
“Shut up! If you do as you’re told, you will see her soon.”
Jack approached the end of the road that led up to the entrance into the three-story federal pen. Light flickered beyond the barred windows. Jack hugged the duffel bag close to his body as he entered through double barred doors. Above it was a green and red sign that read: MAIN PRISON. Cellhouse Audio Tour. To the right was a sign with a map of the island and a list of the day’s programs.
He pressed on in through a series of old-style barred doorways that were left open until he reached a central corridor named Broadway. Either side was Block B and Block C where all the prisoners had been kept. The moment he turned he realized where all the visitors were, they’d been locked inside the cells. What the hell? How had he managed to control that many? Then it made sense. They were all there for a tour of the prison; all he would have needed to do was control the entrance and exits. But how? There were three tiers of cells for as far as the eye could see. Each of the cramped cells was roughly 5 feet wide, 9 feet long and 7 feet high. Just enough room to sleep, shit and breathe. The very sight of them brought back the horrors of Rikers. At the far end of the corridor seated on a single chair facing him was Hudson. Her mouth was gagged and her limbs tied to the chair.
“That’s far enough, Jack. Place the bag on the ground,” Earl said over the phone. Jack still couldn’t see him.
“Let her go first.”
He made a tutting sound with his lips. “No, that’s not how we play the game.”
“How do I know you’ll release her?”
“You don’t.” He laughed.
Jack lowered the bag to the ground and then unzipped it.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t you want to see it? I mean, I could have put anything in this bag.”
“Just leave the bag where it is.”
“Oh come on, Earl, surely you want to see it? Or is this how you always operate, hiding in the shadows, too chickenshit to come out and face people unless you’re wearing a hood?”
“Shut up.”
“At least the real Zodiac had the balls to show his face at a few of the attack sites. Hell, you, you’re just a cheap knockoff.”
“I said, shut up!”
“In fact, I have to wonder whether or not your father really was the Zodiac. I mean, the real Zodiac, his son would have—”
“Enough.”
Jack was using what those in law enforcement might have called reverse psychology. He was just riling him up, baiting him to show his face so he could get a clear shot. That’s all he needed, one opportunity to squeeze off a round.
Suddenly, at the far end of the corridor, he emerged from the shadows, sticking the barrel of a handgun against the side of Detective Hudson’s head. The hand holding the phone was shaking. “One more word, and I’ll paint this floor with her fucking brain matter. I swear.”
Jack nodded. His hands lifted slightly while his eyes bounced from cell to cell. In all honesty, it wasn’t just about riling him up, he’d been using the time to scope out the cells. Behind their doors, mothers, fathers, children and state park tour guides were crammed in, their faces a look of horror. Several of the kids were crying. Yet not one of captives was asking for help. It was as if they were too scared to speak.
That’s when he saw it, under the glow of the lights, several wires snaked along the edges of the ground, going from cell to cell. Holy shit! He’d rigged the place with enough C-4 explosives to bring the whole place down.
“Ah, you like it, Jack? Yeah, I was going to save this for the school buses but I thought this would be much better. What do you think?”
“I think you’re fucking crazy.”
He laughed. “Well now that I have your attention, it’s time we finish the game. Slide the bag across the floor towards me.”
“Come on, man, just let them go, these people haven’t done anything.”
“Of course they have. They, like others, laughed when I came forward, just like this bitch here. Now they’re not laughing, are you?” he shouted casting his eyes around the cells.
“These people don’t even know you. There are kids here. Come on!” Jack clenched his jaw and balled his hand into a fist.
“Jack. Jack. Jack,” he said in a condescending manner. “I’m a man of my word. I wouldn’t lie to you. If I say I’m going to let her go, I will. But here’s the thing. Your little discovery disrupted everything. And so there are consequences.” He paused. “But before we discuss that, let me ask you something. Have you ever set up dominos in a row, and when you tip one, the rest of them collapse?”
Jack was hearing him but at the same time trying to gauge if he could hit him with a bullet from the range he was at.
“Well here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to give you the choice of who lives or dies. That’s right. You get to decide. Each of three tiers holds a row of twenty-eight individual cells, you can control fourteen of them from one of the control boxes at the far end. The other fourteen are controlled at the other end. Three tiers of cells to your left, three tiers on the right, one hundred and sixty-eight cells, twelve manual control panels, one at either end of the tiers.” He took a deep breath in a controlled manner as if he was calm and relaxed and enjoying every second of this. “Now, you can release these people at any time after I have left with the money but the very second you do, you will set into motion a timer which will detonate the C-4 in precisely sixty seconds. That’s right, you will have sixty seconds to get as many out as you can. So you’ll have to act fast. But here’s the catch, if you choose to save these people by releasing them, you will set off a timer to the C-4 below Detective Hudson, giving her only twenty seconds before hers explodes. Are you following?”
Jack nodded.
“Alternatively, you can release Hudson first and save her, but the second you loosen her binds or remove her from that chair, you will set into motion a different set of C-4 timers planted along the cells giving you now only thirty seconds. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, there are three levers in each control panel. Best of luck figuring them out.” He grinned. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Let’s wait until the bomb squad shows up. Well, I have it rigged to go off in exactly five minutes regardless of what you do. So, do nothing, they die. Do something, and you might save some. But who will you choose to save?” He made a tutting sound again and shook his head. “Decisions. Decisions. Have I made myself clear?”
Jack scowled. “Perfectly.”
“Good. Now slide the bag down to me.”
“Slide it? You’re at least a hundred and forty feet away.”
“So pick it up and walk towards me. You try anything and…”
“… she dies, I get it,” Jack muttered.
Jack tossed the cell phone and scooped up the bag and trudged down the long corridor. His stomach churned inside. This was beyond him. He’d encountered all manner of brutal killers in his time but none as twisted as him. His eyes washed over men, women, children and the workers, then looked at Hudson in the distance. Jack made it about halfway down when he spoke again. “That’s far enough, now toss it.”
“How about you come get it?”
Earl wagged his finger. “Toss it over.”
Jack reared back and gave it a toss but purposely threw it only a short distance away.
It landed with a thud echoing. Earl’s eyes darted between him and the bag. It was closer to him than it was to Jack, enough that it wouldn’t have been worth asking him to come any nearer. Earl stepped away from Hudson and began closing the distance. He kept his gun out in front of him. Every step he took, Jack
was expecting him to pull the trigger, but he didn’t. He arrived at the bag, and crouched down to scoop it up. Not even for a second did he take his eyes off him. Slowly he started backing up.
“Oh, and Jack…” Earl fished into his jacket and removed a remote detonator, “I lied, it’s thirty not sixty seconds, and they start now!” He pressed a button, tossed it and turned to run. Jack reached around and in one smooth motion, gripped the Glock from his waistband, wheeled his arm and squeezed off a round. The bullet struck Earl in the back of the leg, causing the knee to buckle. He let out a high-pitched cry and stumbled around the corner, disappearing out of sight.
In the next few seconds, Jack didn’t think, he reacted. He shouted at everyone to get back from the cell doors. Jack then rushed forward, his mind counting down as he knocked Hudson and the chair away from the C-4. While she was still tied to it, he launched her and the chair across the ground towards the open doorway before turning his attention to those locked inside.
He knew he couldn’t save them all. That bastard had done it on purpose.
Sixteen seconds, fifteen, fourteen.
Jack rushed towards the control panel on the first block of cells and tried the first lever but nothing happened, he pulled the second but nothing happened.
“It’s not working!”
A tour guide inside a cell shouted out, “First lever to your right, set it to A for all. The middle lever is the clutch and must be engaged then bring the third lever down and up.”
He did it and there was a loud clang and fourteen cells opened. People rushed out, and he sprinted to the next, and repeated the process.
Nine seconds, eight, seven.
When that was done, he was about to go up to the next tier when it happened.
He hadn’t even made it to the stairs when the blast of air from the first block of C4 knocked him against the wall. He landed hard, coughing and feeling pain shoot through him. He struggled to get up and approach the stairs when the rest of the C4 in the building went off.