Page 237 of Bossy Hero

“That’s it.”

“I don’t fucking like this one damn bit,” I mutter to myself.

In my ear, Mia informs me she’s accessing camera footage at the marina.

“Copy,” I respond.

“Huh?” Patterson asks, jerking his face toward me.

“Watch out!” I yell, pointing at the red light he’s sailing through.

A work van blares his horn at us as we drive past him.

“Shit. Sorry.” Patterson waves toward the driver. “Look at me, driving like I’m running lights and sirens. But if I used them, we’d give away our approach.”

“Sounds like the only advantage we have is the element of surprise.”

“Exactly.”

When we turn into the parking lot of a tiny marina, there’s no question which boat we’re headed for.

“That’s got to be it,” he says, his chin pointing at an ostentatious monstrosity.

I shake my head and scan our surroundings. “Surprised they’re letting him dock that thing here.”

“Arrogant prick,” Patterson seethes under his breath. “It’s a superyacht.”

“Yeah, and he can suck my superdick if he thinks he’s leaving today.”

He laughs as he parks the car behind a service building.

We exit the vehicle, and he quickly retrieves his vest from the trunk of the car, along with an AR-15 rifle. Since I’m already geared up, I sprint across the small parking lot, staying low to the ground.

“I have visual on you, Boss,” Mia announces. “Your team is five minutes out.”

“Excellent. Find us a way in.”

“Stand by.”

I take cover behind a power station, and Patterson eventually catches up.

“Follow me,” he instructs.

I hold him back by the forearm. “Not a fucking chance. We’re waiting for intel.”

Despite his sunglasses, I catch the outline of his eyes widening. “What intel? There’s his yacht. It could leave any minute.”

I point at my earpiece. “Mia’s searching for an ingress point as we speak via the security camera feed.”

“Oh.” He twists to the side, darting his head out for a better view of the ship. “I don’t see anyone loading anything. We’ve got to be running short on time.”

“Mia, what do you see?” I ask, my head weaving so I can get a glimpse of what’s happening near the yacht.

“Boss, I hate to say this, but Patterson might be right. It looks like they’re almost done loading. I count six tangos carrying boxes up a ramp on the starboard side. The pallet they’re emptying on the dock only has three boxes left. I don’t see any more cargo nearby.”

“What kind of weapons do they have?”

“I’m going to assume they’re carrying handguns,” she answers. “Hold on. We’re scanning the deck. Klein found a camera with a better view.”

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