Kirk Russell - Shell Games

Earlier, he’d scanned the boat, the Emily Jane, hadn’t seen anyone on board and had decided it was a fishing vessel. He lifted the camcorder and with the infrared hooked in he easily read the heat image of a man, then picked up a second individual and swung back toward the Condor, saw both Bailey and the diver out on the deck, the cabin door ajar, a shaft of light falling across the stern. A winch engine coughed and started and Marquez reached and shook Roberts’s shoulder.

“We’re on.”

She came awake quickly, asking, “What time is it?”

“3:30.”

“Bailey lied.”

Marquez punched in the numbers for the Sausalito police and then Alvarez’s cell phone. It would take Alvarez and Petersen at least twenty minutes to get here from the motel in Corte Madera and urchin baskets were already moving. They weren’t going to get here in time and the Sausalito police said their first car wouldn’t get there for ten minutes because they had officers assisting the CHP on a vehicle pursuit. He watched Bailey as the dispatcher told him the suspect car had crossed northbound on the bridge then dropped into Sausalito on Alexander Drive. It had since sideswiped three cars and the driver was on foot now with officers in pursuit. Sounded exciting, but it wasn’t going to help them here.

Marquez repeated their situation and counted three men on the Emily Jane, then got off the line with the dispatcher. He had no problem taking down both boats with Roberts, but it would be safer with backup. He decided to give Sausalito as long as possible to get here.

“They’ve almost got it,” Roberts said.

They heard the Emily Jane ’s engines kick on and diesel smoke wafted across the dock as Marquez tried the Marlin, but as he feared, they were between shifts and docked at the Berkeley marina. He talked to a sleepy warden, asked him to find Hansen.

“Okay, we have to go,” he said. “Get yourself ready.” He slipped his tactical jacket on. STATE GAME OFFICER was written in large green and yellow letters, but he didn’t think there’d be any confusion either way. He picked up his flashlight and looked at Roberts crouched near the railing, her eyes shiny and alert. “I’ll walk down, identify myself and order the Emily Jane to shut its engines down. They’re going to pick up on me right away and as soon as they do, click your light on. Then get out on the dock. Let’s look like as many people as we can while they’re trying to make a decision. Bailey knows to do whatever we tell him, so he should be easy. We’ll board the Condor, confirm it’s abalone, then ask Heinemann to step down on the dock. I’ll hold the other two in place and back you up on Heinemann. We’re going to want to handcuff him before we move on the others, and in the meantime hope the Sausalito police get here. When they get here or after we have Heinemann under control we’ll board the second boat. Not before. We clear on that?”

“Got it.”

He looked in her eyes. It was her first SOU bust. “It’ll unroll fast,” he said. “Remember, when I click my light on, let them regis-ter me first, let them start thinking it’s one guy, then we’ll hit them with another light. All we have to do is hold them.” But now, he saw a police unit slow to a stop up in the parking lot, lights off. Two officers got out quickly and then looked confused about where to go. They started one direction and stopped, as if afraid they were going to make a mistake. He pointed them out to Roberts. “I’ll go get those two. Wait here.”

He made his way back to the officers and led them down to wait behind a fish wholesaler’s shed. Roberts would come in with him and the officers would follow. He worked back to her, adrena-line running now. “Let’s go, but let me lead.”

Marquez started the walk, his shoes making a quiet rhythm on the dock. He saw them pick up on the sound, then clicked on his flashlight and Roberts did the same. He held his ID chest high and said, “Fish and Game, gentlemen,” as he reached the Condor. “Who’s captain of this boat?” Heinemann pointed at Bailey. “Captain, we’re going to board your boat and look at what you’re moving.”

The Sausalito cops started toward them. Marquez had hoped for four Sausalito officers, but the pursuit in town meant the two would be the only backup. That was okay, except he could feel a problem starting. The lights went off on the Emily Jane. Two of the men disappeared in the darkness, though they had to be in the cabin. Marquez moved alongside the Emily Jane searching for the third man as Roberts boarded the Condor and called, “Abalone, Lieutenant.” She’d opened an urchin bag and he knew she was doing a quick count so she could arrest Bailey and Heinemann.

Marquez searched the Emily Jane with his flashlight, yelling to the men on board that he was Fish and Game and to shut their engines down and come out. When nothing happened he knew they had a problem. He saw the boat was only held by one moor-ing line and looked for another on board, figured he’d tie it off. He watched for movement, called out again, “Shut your engines down, now, gentlemen.”

The third man must be hiding around the starboard side. Marquez didn’t pull his gun yet, but he freed the clasp now so he could pull it easily, and behind him, he heard Bailey coaxing Heinemann, making a point to be heard. “Come on, man, it’s fuck-ing Gamers. We’ve got to roll with it.”

Roberts was back on the dock, telling Heinemann and Bailey they were under arrest when a squat man appeared on the stern of the Emily Jane and walked toward Marquez holding his hands up, talking as he got closer.

“Hey, man, what’s up? What’s the problem?”

“This is a bust, come down off the boat.” Marquez shined his flashlight on his badge while the cops kept their lights on the boat cabin. “Fish and Game.”

“Okay, Fish and Game, what’s the problem?”

“The catch you’re transferring from your friend here.”

Roberts had handcuffs out and Marquez kept his eyes focused on the boat cabin, looking past the man getting off the Emily Jane. The other two had to be lying down inside the cabin. Where else could they be? There was scuffling behind him and he turned to see Bailey pounding down the dock. He’d broken free of the officer who’d gripped his arm and had run. One of the Sausalito cops was chasing and Heinemann used the moment to break in the other direction, knocking Roberts down as he passed, straight-arming her at the collar and springing toward the Emily Jane. Heinemann scrambled aboard as the man who’d climbed down had a knife out now and was slashing at the mooring line. He’d all but cut through it by the time Marquez got his gun out, disarmed him, and had him facedown on the dock with his arms out. Marquez called to Roberts and then slid the knife away with his foot. He turned to check Roberts’s position and the cops chasing Bailey.

Roberts had leapt on board the Emily Jane and the boat had clunked into reverse, engines gunning, snapping what remained of the mooring rope. Marquez yelled at her to jump, but she was trying to handcuff Heinemann and didn’t hear him above the diesels. He had to make a decision and left the man lying on the dock and went for the Emily Jane before it left with Roberts.

When he jumped he caught just enough rail to hang on, hoist himself over, and then aimed his gun at a man who stood under the deck light holding a sawed shotgun on Roberts. Marquez ordered him to drop the weapon, but the man didn’t flinch, didn’t move the gun from Roberts.

“Drop it, now,” Marquez yelled. “It isn’t worth it. You’re sur-rounded. Lay the weapon down.”