It took her ten minutes to find the opening Madrid had cut in the chain-link fence. Evidently no one from the shipyard had discovered it. The place wasn’t exactly bustling, but still, in a post-9/11 world it surprised her that the port police were not more careful with security.
Silently Jess ducked through the hole. Sticking to the shadows, she sprinted toward the docks. All the while her mind conjured visions of armed smugglers and cops on the take, and she found herself wondering how she was going to stop them when all she had was a cell phone and a flashlight. Not exactly an arsenal. Then she reminded herself that these ruthless men had Nicolas, and she realized she didn’t have a choice but to try. If she could find Madrid, she could tell him what she knew about Mummert, and maybe between the two of them and Jake Vanderpol they could come up with a plan and stop these bastards once and for all.
Her boots clicked quietly against the asphalt as she jogged down the concrete pier toward the Dorian Rae. Around her, the other ships moved restlessly against their moorings, the ropes groaning like bound ghosts. As she neared the Dorian Rae, she spotted the gangplank, a stairway that led to the bulwark on the quarterdeck. Last time she had been here, it hadn’t been there. Farther down the dock, a forklift carrying a box on pallets started toward her.
Realizing they were in the process of loading the ship, Jess took the gangplank at a run. The black water thirty feet below seemed to mock her as she made her way to the bulwark. Remembering the cold grip of it, she shivered and hurried ahead.
On the quarterdeck she paused and looked around. There was no one in sight, but she knew there were people on board. Somewhere in the distance a diesel engine rumbled. To her right a rat scampered along a rope as thick as a man’s arm. On the deck above her, she could hear voices.
She needed a plan. But outnumbered and outmanned as she was, an effective strategy wasn’t going to be easy to come up with. She wondered if Nicolas was on board. A shudder went through her when she thought of all the terrible things that could happen to the little boy at sea.
At the sound of footsteps her head jerked up. Silhouetted against the lights of the bridge to her right, she saw two men walking toward her. Jess’s heart leaped into a sprint. Looking around wildly, she hopped over a rope rail, then ducked into an alcove.
The men stopped less than ten feet away. If she moved one inch in the wrong direction, she thought, the men would see her. Pressing her back against the wall, Jess tried to make herself as flat as possible and prayed they didn’t get any closer.
A full minute passed. Craning her neck slightly, she peered around a steel beam. The men, smoking cigarettes, were both dressed in dark slacks and company jackets. Leaning against the rail beside them were nasty-looking automatic rifles. Lovely.
“We should be under way within the hour.” One of the men spoke with an accent.
“I’ll feel a hell of a lot better once we’re out to sea.” The second man slid a flask from his jacket pocket, took a long pull, then passed it to his companion. “The last thing we need right now is problems because of Mummert’s screwup.”
“In another hour we’ll be in international waters. Once there, we’re home free.” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of a small airtight hatch directly to his left. “We might even get to sample some of our cargo, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m in this for the money,” the second man said, “not the fringe benefits.”
“Pretty self-righteous for a smuggler.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like the idea of offing that kid.”
“Think of the alternative and you’ll come to terms.” Leaning over, the first man picked up his rifle.
The second man shoved the flask into his jacket and picked up his own weapon. “Let’s finish our security sweep and get below deck. I’m getting cold and there’s a card game heating up in the mess hall.”
Jess stood with her back pressed against the wall for a full minute after the men were out of sight. When she trusted her legs to move, she stepped out of the alcove, her head reeling.
I don’t like the idea of offing that kid.
Think of the alternative and you’ll come to terms.
She knew in her heart they were talking about Nicolas. What she didn’t understand was how two human beings could accept something so monstrous as killing an innocent child. The thought brought tears to her eyes.
But Jess didn’t let herself cry. There was no time. The Dorian Rae was about to head out to sea. And she had to find Nicolas before the ship left port.
She glanced at the hatch the man had motioned to. A shiver swept through her at the thought of sneaking below deck again. She and Madrid had seen where the women were being held captive. She’d seen the blood, the shackles.