The docks themselves were a hive of action despite the hour. Giant cranes loomed into the sky lining the front of the port where three massive ships were docked. The cranes, looking like gigantic robots, beavered away with a roaring mechanical whir, removing and stacking large sea containers that clanked and crashed into position. Huge spotlights lit up much of the area with thick white light but there was enough cover from the containers and sporadic low-profile buildings for Ryker to creep about in the darkness unseen.
Moving away from the action to the quieter warehouses that sat alongside, Ryker came back upon the corrugated metal structure he was looking for. The large loading doors at the front were open and the lights inside were on; he caught a glimpse of two parked cars in the space inside – one of them was the boss’s.
Beyond the warehouse were a couple of acres of land that were crammed with containers and pallets, forklifts and flatbed trailers. A chain link fence ran around the perimeter. Ryker walked along the pavement by the outer fence, head down. The main entrance had a simple security hut with an in-and-out barrier either side. Easy access. But Ryker kept walking past, not once looking up. He’d already spotted the guard inside the hut.
He kept on going along the pavement, until he came to a spot where the chains in the fence looked like they had come loose. Maybe corroded by a combination of age and weather. Or perhaps they’d been cut? In the darkness, Ryker couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he took the opportunity to climb through the broken fence onto the warehouse grounds.
Ryker crept further inwards, moving between containers until he reached the metal face of the warehouse. Now that he was away from the main docks, the area was nearly black. Only the lights at the front of the warehouse were on. He could hear voices within, but could see nothing of what was happening, or how many men there were.
Moving along the edge of the warehouse, Ryker was watchful for any guards who might be doing their rounds. He came across no one. He’d moved around two corners of the warehouse when he came to a stop. On this side, with stacked containers behind him and the water directly beyond, he’d spotted a sliver of light coming from the warehouse wall. A hole no more than an inch in the worn metal surface. A missing rivet perhaps.
Ryker moved up to the light and put his face against the metal. From there he had a near-unobstructed view inside. While the outside of the warehouse was dark and quiet, the inside was buzzing with activity.
Two men stood guard with automatic rifles, one either side of the open doors at the entrance. They were standing back, against the wall, obscured from anyone approaching the front.
Ryker could now see three vehicles parked up inside: the same shiny black saloon car, SUV, and panel van he’d seen at the ranch earlier.
Ryker counted another ten men milling about the place. Other than the two at the doors, none of the others appeared to be armed. Among them was Sergei, but there was no sign of the Pakhan yet. It was clear the men were waiting around for something. But what?
For nearly an hour, Ryker stood there in the darkness. In that time, he twice became spooked when he heard a noise behind him. Both times it turned out to be nothing. Or at least he saw nothing, though he couldn’t be certain exactly what the noises had come from.
It was just gone ten p.m. when the heavens opened. Thick rain poured down. The drops clattered and banged on the metal warehouse and the many containers surrounding Ryker. Within seconds he was soaked through. Water poured from his hair, down his brow, and in front of his eyes like a waterfall.
The noise from the torrential downpour would make it easier for Ryker to move with stealth, he realised, but at the same time would make hearing others moving towards him more difficult.
Not long after the rain started, the men inside the warehouse sprang to attention, giving orders and moving into position.
Moments later, Ryker heard the thumping engine noise of a large truck, then the hiss of its air brakes as it came to a stop.
Thirty seconds passed, then the beams of the truck’s headlights became visible beyond the open warehouse doors. The truck swung around in the yard then reversed its trailer – a red sea container on top – into the warehouse.
When the whole of the vehicle was inside – water dripping down from its bulk creating large puddles on the floor – two men stepped forward and rolled the warehouse doors closed.
The other men quickly moved into formation. Each of them either drew a handgun or pulled a rifle from an unseen hiding place. All of a sudden, there were a dozen armed men inside the warehouse, crowding around the container.
Two men, rifles over their shoulders, carried a set of metal steps over to the truck’s trailer, then another man clambered up and undid the thick clasps on the container before swinging open the rusted doors.
Ryker held back a gasp as he stared at the darkness inside. The man on the top of the steps shouted and held out his hand. A woman timidly walked forward. She was young, maybe early twenties. Her thin clothes were plain and worn. Her skin was streaked with dirt. The look on her face... she was terrified.
The man grabbed her hand and pulled her to him then ushered her down the steps where she was coaxed along by the other men. Then another woman came out of the darkness. And another. Next was a woman with her young baby pressed up against her chest. Then a man with a boy.
Thirty people Ryker counted in total.
Centuries earlier, the proximity of Algeciras to Africa had seen it develop into an important trading location. But the proximity had long been exploited by criminals too. Smuggling. Black market goods. Drugs.
People trafficking.
Ryker looked on as the armed men separated the stowaways into four groups. Families. Single men and women with children. Men. And the largest group – lone females, of which there were sixteen. The armed men moved the groups to different corners of the warehouse. The stowaways looked weary. And scared. Many of them were shaking.
The container doors were closed, then the doors to the warehouse opened before the lorry’s engine roared back to life. The lorry was driven away and seconds later, four vans came into the warehouse, each parking up next to one of the groups of people. The armed men shepherded all but the group of lone women into a waiting van. The three filled vans drove away.
Then the warehouse doors were closed again. One of the men with a rifle came over to the black car and opened the back passenger door. And there was the Pakhan. The mob boss.
Ryker gripped the Colt in his hand. What he wanted to do was put a bullet into the boss’s head. One shot. Maybe Sergei too. Then run.
But what would that achieve? And could he really kill the old man just like that without even knowing who he was? All the signs were there but still...