“Two months.”
Jess couldn’t imagine being held captive that long in these conditions. “How did you end up here?”
“The man promise me citizenship in the United States.”
“Who?”
“Mummert.”
Jess chose her next words carefully. “Are there other women on board?”
Chin Lee dropped her eyes, nodded.
“How many?”
“I’m not sure. Fifteen or twenty. Women and girls mostly.”
“Where?”
“The brig. One level down. I take them food sometimes.”
A dozen questions swirled in Jess’s head, but there
was no time to talk. If they wanted to live, they were going to have to find a way out.
“Chin Lee, is there a guard outside the door?”
The other woman hesitated, then shook her head. Jess got the feeling there might be a way, but Chin Lee didn’t want to talk about it. “They’re going to kill us if we don’t get out of here,” she said.
Chin Lee’s eyes were ancient when they met Jess’s. “The guard…sometimes he come in here at night.” She averted her eyes.
Jess’s heart twisted at the thought of the ordeals this poor woman had been forced to endure. “I’m sorry.”
Chin Lee’s eyes filled with tears.
Sympathy and newfound anger flashed inside Jess. But the part of her that was a survivor was already jumping ahead to ways they could use the situation to their advantage. She looked around the room for anything they could use as a weapon, her eyes settling on the television.
“Is there any way you can get the guard’s attention?” she asked. “Maybe call him into the room?”
Chin Lee’s eyes widened and she shook her head violently. “No.”
“Knock on the door. Tell him you’re sick.”
“Please, don’t. You will be sorry.”
“I won’t let him hurt you. I promise.”
“You can’t stop him. He’s armed and strong.”
“Yeah, well, so are we.” Jess walked over to the small television and picked it up, tested its weight. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said, and began to outline her plan.
M
ADRID COULD HEAR
the big diesel engines rumbling as he and Vanderpol sprinted along the dock. He didn’t have to see the smoke billowing from the dual stacks to know that the big container ship was starting to pull away.
“Where the hell are they going?” Jake muttered.
“My guess is they bring the women here and hide them while money changes hands. Then they unload at Luna Bay under the protection of the Lighthouse Point PD.” Madrid shook his head in disgust. “We’ve got about a minute to get on board that ship.”
“Not going to happen,” Vanderpol said.
“The hell it’s not.” Digging into the satchel, Madrid pulled out a length of rope equipped with a four-prong hook.
“What the hell are you doing, man?”
“Saving the lives of two people I care about.” Madrid quickly coiled the rope. Setting his hand a foot from the base of the hook, he began to swing it like a lasso. “Are you in or not?”
Jake shook his head. “It’s probably going to get me killed, but I’m in.”
Madrid tossed the hook. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck when the rope fell short of the departing ship. Cursing, he quickly reeled it in and tried again. This time the hook caught the lowest rung of the rail just above the anchor hawsehole.
“Gotcha!” Madrid whispered.
But the small victory was short-lived. The ship was picking up speed, the engines gunning as the mammoth vessel was maneuvered away from the dock. Madrid felt the rope run through his hands. There was no time
to coordinate with Vanderpol. Giving his fellow agent a final look, he grasped the rope with both hands and launched himself off the dock.
“Madrid!
Damn it.”
His name being called was the last thing he heard before the water rushed up and slammed into him.
J
ESS STAGED THE SCENE
as best she could. Her hands were shaking so badly when she picked up the TV, she wasn’t sure she could lift it over her head. She slid the stool behind the door and stepped onto it. Chin Lee had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her dress. Nicolas sat on the bed, rocking back and forth. Next to him, Chin Lee had formed the pillow to look like a female silhouette and draped it with the blanket. Hopefully, the guard would be so distracted by Chin Lee’s cleavage that he wouldn’t notice it wasn’t Jess on the cot.
“Ready?” Chin Lee asked.
Jess nodded. “Do it.”
Pursing her lips, Chin Lee pounded on the door. “Help us, please,” she cried. “The woman is sick!”
Jess’s arms quivered with the weight of the television as she lifted it above her head. Chin Lee pounded the door a second time. “Please, help me!”
Every nerve in Jess’s body went taut when the latch clicked. She held her breath as the door swung open. Looking down, she saw the back of a bald head and shoulders as wide as a football field. “Whaddya want?” he asked with a gruff British accent.
Maintaining the guise with the flair of a dramatic
actress, Chin Lee pointed to the bed. “She’s sick. Not breathing. Need doctor.”
“Oh, bloody hell.” The man entered the room. “What’s wrong with her?”
He must have sensed Jess above him, because he started to turn. But he wasn’t fast enough. She brought the television down on his head as hard as she could. The sound of glass breaking shattered the silence of the room. The momentum made Jess lose her balance and she fell forward, crashing into the guard. Vaguely she was aware of him bellowing. Of Nicolas crying. Of Chin Lee rushing toward them.
Jess and the guard hit the floor with a crash. Adrenaline and the promise of escape had Jess on her feet in a fraction of a second. She looked wildly around. Chin Lee stood outside the door in the corridor, keeping watch. Nicolas sat on the bed, whimpering. The guard lay on his back. His eyes were closed; he wasn’t moving.
Jess rushed to Nicolas and put her arms around him. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie.” Hugging him to her, she stroked the back of his head and cooed, “But we have to go, okay?”
The guard groaned. She’d hoped to knock him unconscious, but he was starting to thrash. Her gaze snapped to Chin Lee’s. “We need to tie him up.”
Chin Lee darted back into the room and gathered the rope that had been used to tie Jess. Working in unison, the two women tied the guard’s hands behind his back. When that was finished, Jess confiscated his radio and pistol, shoved both into the waistband of her slacks.
“Let’s go.” Crossing to Nicolas, Jess lifted him from
the cot and took him into her arms. At five years of age, he wasn’t exactly light, but she thought she could carry him for a small distance.
“Where?” In the corridor, Chin Lee looked both ways.
“Lifeboats.” Meeting her, Jess set Nicolas on his feet and took his hand. “Do you know the way?”
Chin Lee motioned right. “Follow me.”
She took off at a jog, Jess trailing with Nicolas in tow. If her memory served her, they were two levels down. Once they reached the deck, Jess thought, even if they couldn’t find the lifeboat in time, she would rather risk jumping overboard than face the crew.
They reached a hatch. Two spins and Chin Lee went through it. Their shoes clanged against steel-grate stairs. Nicolas whimpered softly, but Jess encouraged him, hoping the fear leaping through her veins didn’t leach into her voice. “Come on, sweetie,” she whispered. “You can do it. Just a little farther.”
They hit a stairwell, passed a second hatch and continued up. Midway to the final hatch, the blare of an alarm split the air.
“What’s that?” Jess asked.
Chin Lee had gone white. “They know,” she said. “Hurry.”
When they reached the top stairwell, Chin Lee went to work on the door. Jess knelt beside Nicolas and gave him a hug. “We’re almost there,” she whispered.
The hatch opened. Chin Lee burst through. Taking Nicolas’s hand, Jess followed.
And found herself face-to-face with two uniformed men, their semiautomatic weapons trained on her heart.
Chapter Nineteen
The
Dorian Rae
was midway to the mouth of the port by the time Madrid climbed over the rail on the lowest weather deck. The first thing he noticed was the intermittent blast of the alarm.
He was soaked to the skin, but he barely felt the cold as he sprinted along the rail toward the bridge. He’d hated leaving Vanderpol behind—he needed the backup—but Madrid had had a split second to make his decision; he’d done the only thing he could. He had to find Jess and Nicolas. Once the ship reached international waters, he’d never see them again.
Ahead, he saw the bridge lights and the silhouette of the radar mast against the night sky. The ship was massive, and he had no idea where to look for Jess. If he could reach the bridge, maybe he could get the ship stopped.
Ten feet from the deckhouse four men dressed in uniforms and armed with semiautomatic weapons clattered down a steel stairway. By ducking into a darkened alcove Madrid barely avoided being spotted. He watched them pass, his heart pounding. The men were
going somewhere in a hurry. He listened to the scream of the alarm and wondered if it had anything to do with Jess.
Sticking to the shadows, Madrid followed the men. He tried to catch what they were saying, thought he heard the words
security breach,
but he was too far away to be sure. They took him past the wheelhouse, up a short flight of stairs. Ahead, he heard more voices. Drawing his weapon, he slinked up the steps, in plain sight if any of the men had had a notion to turn around. In the near distance he saw the silhouettes of two large lifeboats suspended by ropes and massive pulleys.
His heart stopped in his chest when he spotted them. Two women and a child.
Jess.
Her silhouette was unmistakable. He could tell by her body language that she was frightened. Yet she kept herself squarely between the gunmen and Nicolas.
The need to protect what was his slammed through him. But Madrid had enough experience to know better than to rush into a situation where he was outmanned and outgunned eight to one. Recklessness was the fastest way to getting killed.
He looked down at his weapon and silently cursed its inadequacy. He had a knife strapped to his belt, too. But not even the combination of the two would be enough to stop eight armed men desperate enough to murder women and children. He thought of Vanderpol and wondered if the other man had made it on board.
The only way Madrid was going to get to Jess was if he could come up with some kind of distraction. But
for the life of him he couldn’t think of a way to stop what he knew would happen next.
His worst nightmare became a reality when he saw the familiar silhouette of a man who was stepping toward Jess. Mummert. Horror flashed inside him when Mummert raised a pistol and leveled it at her. The people he’d loved and lost in his life flashed in his mind’s eye. He couldn’t believe fate would steal another.
“You’ve become quite a thorn in my side,” Mummert said.
“Go to hell.”
If he hadn’t been so terrified, Madrid might have smiled at Jess’s response. But while her words were strong, he heard the quiver of terror in her voice.
Mummert ran the muzzle of the pistol from her cheek to her breast. “Though I’m sure you would have made our voyage much more interesting, I’m afraid I have no more time for delays.”
In one smooth motion he grasped Nicolas’s arm. Jess launched herself at him, but two men moved quickly forward and forced her back.
“Let him go!” she screamed. “He’s just a little boy.”
Easy,
Madrid thought.
Don’t push him too hard.
“Ah, but children make for excellent leverage.” Mummert set the pistol against the boy’s temple. “Don’t you agree?”
“What do you want?” Jess screamed.
He gave her an evil smile. “I want you to jump overboard.” He pulled back the slide on the gun. “Or I’ll kill him where he stands.”
J
ESS COULDN’T BELIEVE
it had come to this. She was standing on the lifeboat platform. Twenty feet down, the ocean taunted her with three-foot whitecaps and the promise of a cold and terrible death.
“Do it,” Mummert said.
Terror twisted inside her like barbed wire. Her body screamed with tension as she weighed her options. But there were none. If she refused, Mummert would kill Nicolas. If she jumped, she might live long enough to hear the bullets that would end Chin Lee’s and Nicolas’s lives. An unfathomable dilemma…
“I’ll do it,” she said after a moment.
“Of course you will.”
“On one condition.”
Every nerve in her body jumped when he fired a shot. The hot zing of the bullet whizzed by inches from her ear.
“Stop wasting time,” he said.
“Let the boy go. Do what you like with me.” Despite her best efforts, a sob squeezed from her throat. “I’ll do anything.”
“Tempting.” Mummert’s gaze raked over her. “You certainly have your charms. But the time for play is over. Your time is up. So is the boy’s. Now, jump or I’ll put a bullet in his head.”
Jess stood facing them with the water to her back. Eight men, all of them willing to murder an innocent child for the likes of whatever money their illegal cargo would bring them once they reached their destination.
In the back of her mind she wondered if Madrid had gotten her message. If he was trying to reach her. Con
sidering she had mere minutes left, she accepted the reality that he wasn’t going to arrive in time.
“You coldhearted bastard,” she choked.
Mummert gave her an odd half smile. “That would be true if I had a heart. Make no mistake, my beauty— I do not.” He shifted the gun to Nicolas again.
“Don’t,” she pleaded.
“Jump or I’ll make sure you see him die.”
Jess wanted to take at least one of them with her. For a crazy instant she considered charging Mummert, tackling him, taking him over the side and into the water. But she knew he would shoot her down before she got close enough.
Her only consolation was that her hands weren’t bound. She would be able to swim. But judging by the lights back at the shipyard, the vessel was already half a mile out. She would succumb to hypothermia long before she reached the shore.