Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
That was all I needed to hear. I threw off the guards and ran for the stairs, Rufus right on my heels. Nina’s voice followed me. “Wait! You can’t just—”
I tore through the office downstairs and out onto the dockside. I stopped for a second, searching. There! On the rusting, black-painted stern of a ship a few hundred yards away, I could see the name Charodeyka.
And it was moving.
I sprinted down the dock, Rufus racing alongside me. The ship was one of the smaller ones, with maybe twenty containers piled up on its deck instead of the hundreds some of the others carried. But it was still massive. As I pulled alongside it, I could hear the roar of its engines and see the churned-up water at its stern. It wasn’t going fast, yet, but it was picking up speed. And they’d already removed the gangplank. How the hell do I get on board? There was a good eight feet of water between the dock and the ship, too far to jump.
I looked frantically around and saw a truck parked almost at the water’s edge. I climbed up onto the hood and then, ignoring the driver’s yells, up onto the roof. That put me a good eight feet above the ship. I took two running steps and jumped….
And landed hard on the moving deck, picking up a few new bruises. A second later, Rufus jumped and I turned just in time to catch him in my arms and cushion his fall by going down on my ass.
A man in his fifties marched towards us. His thick black beard was dusted with silver and his face was craggy and weathered from a life spent at sea. “What the fuck are you doing on my ship?” he yelled. His Russian accent was as thick as Ralavich’s. “You’ve got no right—”
I grabbed him by the throat and lifted until his feet left the deck. “Where are the women?” I snarled.
His expression changed. Only for a second, but I saw it. He knew. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat. “And you’re trespassing on my ship!”
Something was happening on the dockside. Two Port Authority cops were yelling to the crew and I heard the engines stop. Shit. I had to find Bethany fast, or they’d arrest me instead of the captain. “Where are they!” I yelled into his face. He flinched but didn’t break. And now the cops were wrestling the gangplank into place so they could come aboard….
I dropped the captain and ran down the length of the ship, searching. White containers, green ones, blue ones, but no red. Had I got it wrong? I looked back towards the cops and my heart sank. They had the gangplank in place and were running up it. Shit!
Then it occurred to me that the containers were stacked in two rows, and I could only see the ones on this side. I raced around the end of the stack and started down the other side—
And there it was. A red container, about halfway along the ship, at the bottom of the stack. I ran to it and got there just as the captain and the two cops arrived from the other direction. “Freeze!” yelled the older of the two cops. He was graying and tubby and clearly didn’t appreciate being made to run.
I raised my hands in the air, very glad I’d gotten rid of the assault rifle. “There—There’s women in there,” I panted, nodding at the container.
“This man is trespassing!” snapped the captain. “I want him off my ship!”
No. God, no, not when I’m so close! “Please!” I looked pleadingly at the cops. “Please, arrest me, take me to jail, do whatever you gotta do but just take a look, please!”
“He’s crazy man,” said the captain. “Is potatoes in there!”
The two cops looked at each other uncertainly. I held my breath.
“Maybe you better let us take a look,” said the younger cop at last.
I sucked in a huge breath and almost lowered my hands. The older cop made a warning gesture and I raised them again. I didn’t care, as long as they opened the container.
Cursing, the captain broke the seals and undid the locks, then pulled the doors wide—
I stared, icy shock sluicing through me. Potatoes piled almost to the ceiling. A few shook free and rolled against our feet.
The older cop sighed. “Sorry, captain. You can get underway.” He turned to me. “You, you’re under arrest.”
He grabbed my shoulder and I let him march me towards the gangplank. It was over. Maybe I’d been wrong about the captain and the container was still on the dock, waiting for a ship. Maybe it was on this ship, and Cairns had lied about the color. Or maybe it was on a ship that was already at sea, and the crew had lied about their destination. Whichever it was, Bethany was gone. No one would listen to me now.