Page 39 of Gray

“I don’t have a shot,” Nick said, his voice strained. “Gray, I don’t see you either.”

“Fuck!” Gray swore, army crawling along the ship’s surface as the man fired his weapon again. If Gray could get to the end of the row of shipping containers, he could get the guy in his sights and return fire. Right now, he felt like a sitting duck. “I hope like hell Boone can see him.”

“Drop your weapon!” a voice from the police helicopter said over a megaphone, their floodlights turning toward the area.

“I still don’t see him!” Gray yelled. “I don’t have a visual!”

Suddenly, a single shot fired from the direction of the loading dock, coming from more than one hundred yards away. Gray heard a grunt and gurgle as the man fell to his death, landing far too close for comfort. The tango had practically been right above him.

“Boone took him out,” Nick said calmly over the headsets.

“Thank God,” Gray muttered, standing. Blood was pooling by the head of the man who’d fallen, but Gray didn’t have it in him to feel any remorse. No doubt this lowlife was one of Ivan’s men. The ship was still moving toward the center of the harbor, commotion surrounding them onshore as more authorities were notified of the chaos.

“They’re going to try to leave the harbor and sail away,” Ford said, watching from the dock. “It looks like they’re attempting to turn the ship.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m onboard and won’t leave without Lena.”

“We’ve got another problem,” Luke said, his voice urgent over the headsets. “There’s black smoke rising from the ship.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if it’s a fire onboard or trouble with the engine, simply causing something to smoke. Either way, it doesn’t look good.”

“God damn it! I’m not leaving this ship without Lena!” Gray began walking down the row on the starboard side, looking up at the stacks of containers. The most recently loaded cargo was of course on top, but he still didn’t know which one to begin searching. It would take hours to break into all of them—time he didn’t have. Just scaling to the top was going to be a problem.

“Lena!” he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the helos. Damn it. Even if she was inside, he’d never hear her calling back to him.

Gray paused, carefully assessing each one. How did the Chinese buyers know which container held their merchandise? A dock worker in China had to be in on the scheme, unloading the women once they reached their destination. Was there a word ormarking they’d look for? Some other indication to let them know their live cargo was inside?

“What’s the status on the surveillance footage?” he asked urgently into his mic. “Do we know the container Lena was put in yet?”

“Negative,” came Luke’s worried reply.

Gray moved to the bow, scanning the top row there. This section of the ship seemed the most likely spot the container had been stacked given the ship’s position at the dock. He could be wrong, but he had to start somewhere. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, all his senses on high alert. Gray stood there assessing. Calculating. The sunlight warmed his face. He could smell the scent of fish and brine and water. Hear the sirens and helicopter rotors. Feel the chill from his wet pants, socks, and boots. See the rows and rows of cargo.

There. One of the containers had a marking on the side that looked like spray paint. Was it graffiti or something more?

“There’s something written on the top blue container, left corner of the bow,” he said, his hand on his mic.

“What’s it say?” Ford asked.

“I can’t make out the markings. Thirty something. Thirty-six? It might say thirty-six D.”

“Thirty-six D? What the hell does that mean?” Luke asked.

Sam clicked on his mic. “Doesn’t sound like any damn GPS coordinates. Maybe they’re marking a woman’s measurements on the side of the container. It’s sick as hell, but what if it means there’s human cargo inside? Those are somewhat innocuous letters and numbers unless you knew what to look for.”

Gray breathed in, suddenly knowing Sam was right. It was all kinds of twisted, labeling the cargo like Lena was a fuckingobject, not a woman, but he was thankful this shipping container looked different than the rest. The alternative of Lena remaining trapped wasn’t a thought he was going to entertain. Black smoke continued to billow in the sky. It wasn’t getting worse, but it also wasn’t getting better.

“I’m going up,” Gray said, trying to figure out the best way to scale all the containers. His gaze landed on a coil of rope, no doubt undone from when the ship had been docked. How would he secure it to the top though? He didn’t have repelling gear.

“The Coasties will give you a lift,” Jett said over the headsets. Gray blinked in surprise as a helo came closer, hovering above him. The rotors blew cold air down over him, and his feet felt numb from being in wet socks and boots. His boxers and pants were frigid, and the irony that he might literally have blue balls wasn’t lost on him. Gray hoped all his appendages were okay after that dip in the icy water. Saving Lena was worth it though, consequences be damned.

More sirens sounded as firetrucks began to arrive on scene, and the Apollo continued its hopeless turn, nearly getting stuck in the harbor.

“Who the hell is piloting that thing?” Sam asked over the headsets.

“Not the harbor master. He’s on the dock with a tugboat driver,” Luke said.

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