Retribution Road, Jon Coon [top business books of all time .txt] 📗

prayed, “Lord, I’m in your hands. Please have mercy,” and then swam down the ledge. Dusk had turned to dark, and he turned on the wrist-mounted cave diving light. The water was comfortable, and unlike his river dives, there was actually some visibility. At thirty feet, he stopped and checked his gauges, flushed the AGA mask, and said to Jim, “Nothing yet.”

“Roger that. Do you want me to turn off your air or drop trucks on your head to keep things interesting?”

“Let’s just keep this one easy for once, thank you.”

“If you say so.”

Jim had been on the wrong side of the bridge construction scandal a few short months ago but was cleared when it was shown he’d been blackmailed into giving information to the wrong guys. Gabe had gone to bat for him to save his job, and their relationship was now stronger than ever. Strong enough that they could joke about the past. Strong enough that Gabe trusted Jim with his life. Every time they had a call-out that required diving.

Gabe moved farther down the bank, pulling and clearing his hose behind him as he did. Forty feet, black and cold. Must have hit a thermocline. In a moment he adjusted to the chill and continued the descent. At forty-five feet he could see the outline of a Ford F-100 lodged in the rocks.

“Oh no. It can’t be.”

But as he got closer and shined his light on the vanity tag, his worst fears were confirmed. The tag read “NEEDH20.” It was Paul’s truck. The truck Gabe and Charlie Evans, Paul’s dad, had spent two knuckle-busting years restoring.

Then he saw the girl’s body slumped over the dashboard.

“Crap!”

Chapter 2

GABE EASED DOWN TO THE driver’s side door and scanned the interior with his cave light. The girl, young, in a short skirt and mostly open blouse and held in place by her seat belt, leaned forward, her head hovering over the dash. If she had been alive and awake when the truck went in, she would have tried to get out of that belt. Gabe looked for a purse, in hope of finding something with her name on it. Nothing. Without a name, his ability to awaken her spirit wouldn’t work, so the department would have to ID her the conventional way.

“Jim, I’m on the truck. I can’t get to her, so let’s lift the truck. Can you tie on the first bag, and I’ll pull it down? Make sure all the air is out.”

“Not my first rodeo, partner. Stand by. I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

Well, Charlie, we never thought all that work would end up as a submerged coffin. I’m just glad Paul’s not sharing it. I hope that boy’s not involved in this. With you gone, Carol has suffered enough for three lifetimes.

“Bag’s ready. Take it down.”

“Roger that. I’m hauling it now.”

Gabe unclipped the messenger line from his harness and pulled the 2,000-pound-lift-capacity brown bag down the ledge. Roughly the volume of four 55-gallon barrels, there were chains for attachment to the truck axles and an air hose leading back to the surface. Gabe would attach all four bags if possible, and then Jim would inflate them from a manifold of valves on the surface.

He dragged the bag into position over the right front tire and wrapped the chains around the suspension in back of the tire. “Got it, Jim. Give me just enough air to get it up and out of the way.”

Jim sent down short bursts of compressed air until the bag rose from the bottom and the chains were drawn tight.

“All stop. That’s got it. Okay, send down the next one.”

“Roger. Give me a minute.”

Gabe leaned against the truck and ran his hand gently over the right front fender. He remembered the body work it had taken to pound out the dents and reshape the steel to rounded perfection. Charlie had been quite a craftsman, and they’d shared many evenings talking about work, life, and the future while bringing the old girl back to competition condition. His thoughts returned to Paul, Charlie’s oldest and only son, and Gabe’s godson. What have you done, boy? Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time?

“Back to work. We’re ready.”

“Roger that. Is the ambulance here yet?”

“Ready and waiting. Any idea what happened?”

“She’s still strapped in. Windows open. Doesn’t look good.”

“Any signs of violence?”

“Other than being a few days dead, belted into this truck? No, man, she looks great.”

“Okay, dumb question. I get it. You ready for the next lift bag?”

“Roger that, send it down.”

Jim lowered the bag until Gabe said, “Yeah. Okay, I’ve got it. This one’s going to be tight. Right rear, and I’ve got to wedge in under the truck.”

“Ten-four. Be careful.”

The big bag was awkward. Gabe crawled down the back of the truck and could barely reach around the tire. He stretched and fought the bulk and weight of the bag until he was finally able to secure the chain. Winded, he crawled back up the truck and moved to the tailgate.

“Ready for number three?”

“Roger that. Hey, how are you and Carol doing with that new house? Isn’t it about done?”

“Yeah. She’s in. I’m still in the RV. That was our agreement.”

“Oh, I thought”

“Nope, not yet anyway. It’s only been a few months and there’s no need to rush.”

“If you say so. That’s one terrific woman. Bet I could find a reason or two to speed things up.”

“Yeah, but you’re a dirty dog, and your own mother won’t let you sleep in the house. Plus, there are kids involved. We have to take it slow.”

“Whatever you say, boss. Whatever you say. Got that bag yet?”

“Yeah, it just dropped on my head. Okay, here we go.”

The left front tire was exposed and no problem. Not the same for the left rear. The left rear tire was wedged in the rocks, and that was the challenge. Gabe caught the last bag and moved it as close as possible. He tried to make the hookup from the