Page 103 of The Capo

“Kakogo cherta!” the man yelled.

I immediately yanked the flashlight from my pocket, shining it in the Russian’s direction. A single pop of Arman’s weaponhandled his sharp cry. I might not know a lot of words in Russian, but his exclamation of what the hell was easy to decipher.

Unfortunately, his cry was heard by several of the other sailors. Within seconds, at least a dozen had raced to the location of the outcry, only a few with weapons.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

All hell broke loose, enemy soldiers racing toward us. In my mind, I could think only one thing. Let the battle begin.

“Go. Go. Go!” I yelled, racing forward and firing shots indiscriminately. Soldiers started to fall but they kept coming.

“Jesus Christ,” Arman huffed as he was forced to drop and roll, shooting across the direction I was going. As the enemy went down, I grinned.

“Thanks, bro.”

“I told you I’d always have your back. Let’s get this done.”

The ship lurched. The fucking captain had heard the shots. There was no way he hadn’t. He’d been instructed to leave port at any cost.

“Rocco. Get to the bridge. You love boats, my friend. You get a crash course in being captain of a cargo ship.”

“Now, you want me to venture out,” Rocco huffed, firing off his weapon twice then racing toward the well-lit bridge.

“Come on.” I jetted forward, weaving my way through containers sitting on the deck, dropping and rolling myself more than once as the bullets continued to fly. I heard a harsh sound and spunaround just in time to fire bullets into an enemy lunging toward my brother, a machete in his hand.

“What the fuck?” Arman hissed as he stumbled backward. “He’s not a soldier.”

“The crew has no clue what the fuck is going on. I hope you studied up your Russian, my friend or we’ll have a mutiny on our hands.”

“Fuck, no. But Maddox speaks fluent Russian.”

The sudden quiet aside from the lapping waters of the Atlantic was unnerving as fuck. There were likely more of the fuckers hiding in wait, but they’d be dealt with.

I snorted, turning around in a full circle. “Now, you tell me. Come on. We have a lovely possession to find.”

“Leave no stone unturned.”

Delaney

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

“Oh, God. What is happening?” I beat on the sides of the container for the tenth time, no longer caring my fingers were raw and bleeding from trying to dislodge any of the boards. I continued trying, using what little strength I had left, groaning then screaming when it wouldn’t budge. Then suddenly, it did, the board splintering. I was tossed against the back, the force causing me to slide down to the floor.

Light streamed in from the beautiful hole I’d created, the additional air allowing me to take a deep breath. Gunshots. That’s what I’d heard, but why? Had someone arrived? Port Authority? Cops?

I scrambled forward, peering through the hole. I’d been right. I was in a container holder but there weren’t as many of the boxes as I’d thought, maybe three or four hundred. I heard gruff voices in Russian then a few additional shots.

Then nothing.

There was an eeriness to the sudden quiet, the only sound that of the hoists creaking from the movement of the ship, but I could almost swear it was slowing down. Should I become excited or terrified?

I took slow and easy breaths, trying to control my breathing. I pressed my hands against the container, shaking like a leaf as the adrenaline rush began to leave. I was hopeful someone would walk through the door to save me.

A couple of minutes passed. Then five more. Then maybe ten. No one was coming for me. They had no clue where I was. I had no idea how long I’d stood in the same position, every muscle aching as sorrow settled in. Whatever was happening, being found seemed like an impossibility. I drifted backward, sliding to the floor and grabbing the water.

I hated to cry but the tears continued to form, sliding past my lashes.

As I rested my head against the thick wood, I continued to think about Francois, almost able to hear his laughter inside my head. The man could easily make me swoon. I allowed myself to fall into a sweet fantasyland, able to picture his face. I was so busyenjoying the indulgent moment that I almost didn’t hear the creaking sound.

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