A Cold Dark Promise (Cold Justice #8.5)(26)
“Heading down.” He barely moved his lips, but it would be enough for Ashley Chen and Scarlett Stone who manned the communication network to hear. They’d found a blueprint of the boat on the computers of the original designers. The biggest danger was bumping into staff or security below decks, but they’d decided with dinner guests onboard, hiding in plain sight would be more effective than creeping around the place. Blending in was one of the things Alex excelled at, right up until the point he pulled out his weapon and pulled the trigger.
He could hear the group laughing and joking in French on the deck below.
Salamander’s gleeful smile as he raised a knife teased Alex’s memory, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t plan on killing anyone today, but he would secure the weapon, and the child, using whatever means necessary.
He headed inside and down the carpeted corridor. Down another deck, and another, until he hit the region where heat signatures suggested Masook was keeping the weapon.
The idea of biologicals made his skin literally crawl. Who did that? Released something that would target innocent civilians as well as military operatives? And who knew how these biologicals would behave once they reached the general population—how they’d morph and spread. Warfare was often unethical and illegal. Covert ops even more so. But Alex had his own ideals—ideals he wouldn’t compromise. The use of biological or chemical weapons crossed a line he would never condone and would do everything to stop.
Alex tried the door of the room where they’d assumed the weapon was being stored. An office Masook was using. The door was locked, but it took only a few seconds to open. He closed the door carefully behind him as Noah confirmed in his ear all was quiet on deck.
Alex began a systematic search of the room using the light that streamed through the porthole. He couldn’t risk a flashlight, but he didn’t need one. A laptop computer sat on Masook’s desk.
Alex thought about the conversation he’d overheard between Salamander and Masook. Where would Masook have hidden the material onboard a boat like this—a boat where his eight-year-old daughter was staying?
Alex glanced around the room and moved aside a beautiful abstract painting of a seascape. Sure enough, a sleek black electronic safe stared right back at him.
He smiled.
Chapter Fifteen
The harbor was pretty at night, Jane realized as she walked toward the quay. Lights from the ancient fortress, nearby houses and the multitude of boats reflected in the calm water, creating a scene worthy of a picture postcard. The scent of French cooking hung redolent on the air, the sounds of people talking and laughing trickled over old stone, reassuringly normal in a world that had been turned upside down by what she now knew lurked onboard her ex-husband’s boat.
A cool breeze brushed over her, and she shivered. She wasn’t wearing a flak jacket. She’d refused pointblank even when Lincoln Frazer had gone all FBI I’m-the-boss-of-you on her. Alex had already left by that point otherwise she might have caved. But she was the one person Ahmed might physically grab tonight and she refused to jeopardize the operation by wearing a bulletproof vest.
She could take a punch.
She’d proved it on more than one occasion, but she would not be the one who screwed this thing up. She had too much to lose.
For the first time ever, she was part of a team of people who were not only trying to help get her baby back, but were also going after arms dealers and killers.
It made her feel proud. And terrified.
Her work in The Gateway Project had felt justified at the time. The difference was, this operation had Interpol in the background bringing these bad guys legally to justice. The Gateway Project had acted as judge, jury, and executioner. They’d been wrong, but she didn’t regret removing pedophiles and serial killers from the streets. Too many innocents had died at their hands.
But they’d still been wrong, and she was just as guilty as Alex. At least he’d had the honesty to pull the trigger, not just provide information and deceive herself that her hands had no blood on them.
She had blood on them. Gallons and gallons of the stuff.
Her low heels hit the quay and her footsteps rang like a death knell. She could just make out the massive boats in the distance and forced her pace not to falter. She passed luxury liners and fast cars, women wearing Prada and men in Versace. Once this had been her world, but for all its sparkle and glamor it was a cold and lonely place.
She rolled her shoulders and wondered where Reilly was. Presumably up ahead on the pier.
There was something about the way he looked at her that made her quiver. It wasn’t just lust, it wasn’t just pity, it wasn’t disinterest. It was…interest. He was interested in who she was.
When was the last time that had happened?
He’d offered to teach her self-defense…
The idea was tantalizing on so many levels she couldn’t let herself think about it. She knew how to shoot a gun, but the idea of grappling with a man and knowing how to prevent him from hurting her, how to hurt him back…she wanted that. She really wanted that. And the idea of Jack Reilly getting all hot and sweaty while teaching her? She wanted that, too. But first, she needed to concentrate on the most important thing in her life.
Taylor.
The boat Ahmed was staying on was just up ahead now. Did the man he’d borrowed it from know about Ahmed’s business sideline? She had a feeling the NSA and CIA would be trying to figure that out in the near future.