Singapore Sling Shot by Andrew Grant Page A

just a dark mass.
    The boat slowed. Sami came back out on deck.
    â€œHe’ll nose us in a bit further. The tide is running out, so we’ll go past the target and you can let it carry you back.” As he spoke, he put on a pair of night-vision glasses. Sami hunched behind the cabin bulkhead to cut out as much light as he could from the cabin and the city behind us. I stood waiting as he scanned the island shoreline for a few seconds. Then he pointed.
    â€œThere!”
    I squatted beside my friend and followed the line of his arm. I couldn’t see anything but for the black silhouette of Sentosa framed against the glow of the hundreds of ships anchored beyond it. The boat was creeping closer to the island and finally I could see a faint line of phosphorescence where the water foamed on the rocks of the shore, but that was it.
    â€œWe’re forty metres off the rocks,” Sami said. He was still pointing, but now the direction he was indicating was several degrees back towards the boat’s stern. I momentarily glimpsed a structure against the rocks and jungle. That was it. I had my point to aim for.
    â€œOkay. I’m away.”
    â€œGood luck, Daniel. Watch your neck!”
    â€œAlways.”
    I took four big paces and levered myself off the low railing, throwing myself as far from the boat as possible to get clear of the propellers. I held my swim goggles in place with both hands as I landed feet first and sank.
    The water was surprisingly cool. My momentum carried me under a metre or two and then I was drifting back towards the surface. I could feel the pull of the outgoing tide grabbing at me. It wasn’t fierce, but things can be deceiving. When my head broke the surface of the water, I managed to quickly orientate myself and started swimming for the island, keeping the city lights behind me.
    I began swimming breaststroke, but when I realised that I was drifting relentlessly towards the harbour entrance, I switched to the basic Australian crawl. I’m a strong swimmer, but because I’m out of condition I made hard work of what was a very short swim. I was still crabbing across the current when eventually my hands touched rock. I dropped my goggles, leaving them hanging around my neck as I started picking my way through the slick rocks and tangles of weed towards the shore.
    My night vision was growing better. The lights from the oil refinery in the distance showed me a hard edge in silhouette away to my right. I made my way towards it and the darkness slowly gave up one secret at least. There was a ramp and landing stage with a small pillbox behind it. Beyond that again was a concrete pathway that pushed back into the dark under the cliff face.
    I climbed up onto the landing. The concrete was covered with weed and the outgoing tide had left it as slick as ice, so I stayed on my hands and knees and crawled up the ramp until I got onto the dry surface. I looked back towards Sami’s boat. Big mistake, of course, because in an instant the night vision I had been cultivating was blown away by the glare of a million city lights. I cursed, but I did make out Sami’s boat as it continued on up towards the Sentosa bridge. The plan was that they would stooge around up that way until I could collect the recorder, then they would come back at a run. My head-mounted flashlight would guide them to me in the water. Simple plan.
    Simple plan, my brain repeated as I turned back to the task in hand. I hate that phrase. I opened the waterproofed bag and firstly got into my shoulder harness. I’d checked the gun on the boat, but I checked it again. There were thirteen rounds in the magazine and one in the breech. If I need any more, I’d be out of luck. Singapore is not the place to start a gun battle and if my meagre supply of ammunition didn’t do the job then so be it.
    I pulled off my dive shoes and stowed them in the bag before getting into my sneakers and slipping on my