Taking her hand, he ducked through the opening. Jess followed, her mind reeling, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of the kiss. She knew it was silly to be thinking about something as inconsequential as a kiss when they were about to risk their lives. But the truth of the matter was, there was nothing inconsequential about the way Madrid had kissed her.
There would be consequences.
He took her past a massive fuel storage tank and a low, windowless steel building. Two hundred yards to her left were the lights of the guardhouse. Dead ahead, a cargo ship stood silhouetted against the night sky, its radar mast and wheelhouse jutting from an ocean of containers like a mountain of steel.
The hiss of tires against asphalt sent her heart into her throat. Headlights slashed through the darkness to her left. The next thing she knew she was being pulled toward a dozen or so fifty-gallon steel drums stacked haphazardly against a small building.
“Get down.”
Madrid’s voice registered at about the same time a firm hand pressed her head down.
Jess ducked. Her pulse raced wildly as she peered between two drums. An SUV with some type of logo painted on the door idled slowly past. A spotlight mounted near the mirror on the driver’s side shone on the buildings as the SUV passed. Inside the vehicle, she saw the silhouettes of at least two people.
“Who are they?” she whispered.
“Port police.”
“Ironic that we have to dodge the good guys.”
“Just because they’re wearing the uniform doesn’t mean they’re the good guys.” His hand tightened on hers. “This way.”
The taillights of the SUV faded into the foggy darkness as they dashed across the asphalt toward the docks. There were four ships docked at the small port, including the Xanadu Rose. One was a barge, and one a tanker. The only remaining ship at the far end of the dock was a rusty behemoth stacked sky-high with containers.
“What are we looking for?” she asked.
“We know the Xanadu isn’t where the women are being held hostage.” Madrid’s eyes scanned the ships as they walked the dock. “Another container ship would be my best bet.”
The first ship they came to, the barge, was in the process of being unloaded. Huge cranes worked beneath massive spotlights.
They skirted the loading zone, sticking to the shadows on the opposite side of the low building. The next vessel was the tanker, with a foreign flag. Avoiding a street lamp, they passed the Xanadu and approached the final vessel. The massive ship was in poor condition, but even in the semidarkness Jess could make out the name emblazoned on the hull.
“The Dorian Rae,” she whispered.
“Looks deserted.”
“The perfect place to run an illegal smuggling operation.”
“One way to find out.”
Taking her hand, Madrid looked both ways, then sprinted toward the Dorian Rae. Jess found herself dragged into a dead run. The ship loomed as large as a mountain as they drew closer. Ropes as thick as a man’s arm were secured to giant cleats set into concrete. She could hear waves slapping against the concrete piers. The massive vessel groaned like a ghost ship trying to free itself from its moorings.
They crossed to a primitive elevator used by shipping and U.S. Customs personnel, but the steel grid door was secured with a chain and padlock.
“What now?” Jess said.
“Piece of cake.” Madrid dropped to his knees and dug into the duffel for the bolt cutters.
The chain snapped and clattered to the concrete. Giving her a look over his shoulder, Madrid slid open the door and stepped onto the platform. Fabricated with plywood and steel grid, the elevator had the appearance of being thrown together by less than talented construction workers. The only thing even remotely modern about it was the glowing Up button next to the door.
“Going up,” Madrid muttered, and hit the button.
The car jolted and began its upward ascent. The wind whistled through the steel grid as the car climbed.
“What if someone sees us going up?” she asked.
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”
She was about to respond when a bell chimed and the elevator car jerked to a stop. When the door slid open, Jess started to move out of the car, but Madrid stopped her and went first. The elevator had opened onto a wide deck. Dead ahead, a dozen massive containers were stacked like giant toys. To Jess’s left stood a building of sorts that soared another thirty feet into the night sky.
“Where are we?” she asked.
He looked around, then up. “I’d say we’re standing just in front of the aft deckhouse.”
A shudder moved through her as she looked around. Rusty and dilapidated, the ship looked as though it hadn’t been used in a very long time. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Especially if you think about what might be happening onboard.”