Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(89)

Most of the rooms were clearly bunks or social areas for the ship’s crew. A few looked to be small cargo spaces. The whole place was a warren of halls and turns. So much of it looked exactly the same as the rest. It was hellaciously confusing.

“I think we’re lost.” Sarah pressed her back to the wall.

“Yeah, I think we are. It’s okay. We’ll keep looking.” He seemed to be getting on better. Maybe the opportunity to do something, or just moving, was helping him push through the pain.

Charlie struck out in another direction. This time the muttered voices grew louder, more distinguished. She could make out some of the words. Basketball. Score. Team names. Sports talk.

The cavernous room they crept into was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Charlie had a tight hold on her so they wouldn’t get separated. He edged forward without wavering, as though he knew where the door must be.

Like the darkened rooms before it, she had the impression of a sizeable space, but they didn’t explore its depths. Each time Charlie edged them straight for another door. The ship wasn’t that big, was it? They couldn’t be going in circles, could they? Was he simply confused?

Charlie placed her hand against the wall, then let go. He opened the door, going slowly so as to prevent the hinges groaning too loudly. For a moment they both held their breath, the bit of light allowing her to see Charlie’s wide eyes.

“Is it safe?” she asked.

He peered out of the other door, taking his time to look one way, then the other. He leaned closer to her, almost until his lips were on her ear. “I think we need to cross the hall. That room is the one they questioned me in.”

Oh, dear. She nodded, despite every fiber of her body telling her to run and hide. Charlie was the professional here. She trusted him.

He turned, and they both listened to the distant movements. Feet shuffling. Muted voices. She could tell one sound was closer, getting closer, closer still, and then it seemed to fade.

This would be the worst of it. Charlie was going to think she’d betrayed them, but she had to continue being careful. He grasped her hand and led her as quickly as he could across the wide hall and into the room. She remembered this space.

There, sitting on a table, was the briefcase.

Part of her hadn’t believed they would make it this far, but here they were.

“Open it.” Charlie waved her toward it while he took up a post next to the door, peering out into the hall.

Now all she had to do was snap pictures and they’d be done with it.

“Hurry,” Charlie whispered.

She pulled the lip balm tube from her pocket and twisted it like Irene had showed her. The bottom came off, exposing the camera. She felt along the sides until—there—the button under the label.

“Anyone coming?” she asked over her shoulder.

Charlie shook his head.

If she opened the case, they ran the risk of someone surprising them. If she outright destroyed the contents, informants would go dark. What was the right choice? What should she do?

She didn’t like any of her options.

Something pinged off the metal, vibrating the whole ship.

“Hurry, Sarah.”

She picked the case up off the desk and retreated to the farthest corner of the room. It was her job to deliver the protocols. That was what she had to do.

Sarah flipped the panel covering the keypad and pressed the first code, initiating the unlocking sequence, then set her hand on the handle. She could do this. It was one thing in her power that only she could do.

The case chirped, indicating it had recognized her.

Now, one final code, and she’d have to work double-time.

Charlie glanced back at her, his posture tense.

“What’s that sound?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.”

Was it hail? Had the storm begun in earnest? Maybe that could work in their favor. She plugged in the last string of numbers and digits. The keypad flashed a single, green light, and the lock disengaged.

She opened it and lifted the lip balm tube, clicking the button to initiate the camera.

Charlie turned from the door. “You got it?” he asked.

She flipped the first couple of pages over and clicked again.

“Sarah?”

She didn’t bother answering.

Charlie straightened and tiptoed toward her.

There were pages of the protocols in here. Pages upon pages, some of them taped together. “It’s going to take some time,” she said.

“Sarah—stop now.”

“Charlie—” Sarah glanced up, but her gaze snagged on the barrel of a gun pointed straight at her.

“What are you doing?” Her body went cold, then hot.

No. Not Charlie…

“Step away from the briefcase, Sarah.” He grasped the lid and crouched across from her.

In the full light, his eye didn’t look quite so swollen. He definitely wasn’t wheezing.

She had a vague memory of lying in bed after too much wine, just in from the U.S. after her surgery. Charlie had insisted on her staying in Hong Kong for a few days. It’d been during their short-lived romance.

Her arm had been worse for a bit after that. She’d thought the stitches looked funny, but ignored it because she was the last person to follow the take it easy doctor orders.