Terror at G-20 by John L. Flynn

Author:John L. Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2022-08-08T07:30:23+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Early on Wednesday morning, the sixth day of the “sick-out,” Kate rode the Powell-Hyde cable car line north towards the Marina, across the Municipal Railway, and into the famous San Francisco Port. She felt a chill in the air, even as the last clouds of the evening shadowing the sunrise were beginning to dissipate in the earliest hours of the morning. Shadows from the tall buildings began playing their familiar game of hide and seek as the first rays of sunlight crept over the hills to the east, lengthening them at first and then, with each passing hour, reducing them back down to size. One of the most famous ports in all of America, the Port of San Francisco was simply massive. An enormous scale of large shipping and industrial imports and exports spanning nearly one hundred years was a magnificent sight. Smaller boats and ships belonging to fishermen, miners and other trades populated the ports and provided a rich and prosperous culture for the city. One of the best places in the city for fresh and local produce was at the ports themselves and a number of fresh fish stalls were set up along the jetties enticing the passers-by with that rich, salty, mouth-watering sea smells.

Dawson waited until her cable car had stopped at the port. She then released the strap-handle and hopped onto the curb. She pulled her casual leather jacket tight around her as she walked along one of the docks towards Fisherman’s Wharf. The cry of seagulls above was mixed with the shouts and busy conversation from traders and fisherman along the boardwalk. The sun continued fighting its battle to break through the patches of cloud and low mist, but it was a losing battle, and it seemed like the day was going to be far cooler than she had earlier anticipated. Kate kept walking as the boardwalk became busier and busier thanks to the popular stalls selling fresh fish to patrons. The breeze whipped through her long, blonde hair and she inhaled the fresh air, making her feel refreshed and truly alive.

She continued walking by the stalls, taking in the sights and smells. Eventually, she came across a Chinese fishing stall which was bustling with people, buying up bizarre yet tasty foods fresh from the waters of the Bay.

The Chinese family behind the stall was very busy helping each customer in turn. Dawson stood to one side for a moment, waiting to catch the eye of the middle-aged Chinese man packing crates behind the counter. After a few moments, the man noticed that he was being watched by her. He packed yet another crate, and then stood up with a friendly smile.

“Looking for something special?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dawson said, “soft-shell crabs.”

A sly smirk crossed the man’s face, and he replied, “Might have some in the back, ma’am. $32 per pound?”

“Fine,” she replied.

Chinese man took off his gloves, and opened the side door to the stall. “I’ll be a few minutes,” he called back to one of his family members, and then took a brown envelope from under the counter with him.

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