Operation: Midnight Rendezvous

Home > Mystery > Operation: Midnight Rendezvous > Page 12
Operation: Midnight Rendezvous Page 12

by Linda Castillo


  Or dangerous.

  “Since I’m no longer with the agency, that leaves us with the freedom to do the right thing.” He paused. “Even if it means crossing lines.”

  Jess wanted to ask him which lines he was talking about, but they were interrupted by the slam of a steel door. Madrid quickly clicked off the flashlight, total darkness crashing over them. Even with her heart hammering hard against her breast, Jess heard the pound of boots.

  “Someone’s coming this way,” she whispered.

  “More than one person.” Taking her by the shoulders, he shoved her into the corridor. “Time to move. Fast.”

  He didn’t give her time to think about it. His hand latched on to hers with the force of a vise grip. The next thing she knew she was being pulled forcefully down the corridor. They were midway to the hatch when overhead lights flashed on.

  Horror whipped through her. A terrible sense of being exposed. Of danger. Vaguely she was aware of Madrid cursing under his breath. Of male voices shouting behind her. Heavy footsteps pounding steel. The sound of bullets being chambered.

  “You, there! Halt! Now, or I’ll fire!”

  “Run!” came Madrid’s voice.

  He hit the hatch with both hands, but the steel didn’t budge. “Help me crank this,” he hissed.

  Jess grabbed the wheel and spun it as hard as she could. But their efforts were in vain. She looked past Madrid to see three men rushing toward them, rifles thrust forward.

  “Get your hands up and turn around slowly!”

  Her hands shot into the air. Beside her, Madrid sighed. For an instant she feared he was going to do something crazy. Instead, he raised his hands and slowly turned. “Where the hell have you been?” he snapped.

  A tall man with long blond hair pulled into a ponytail sneered. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”

  Madrid frowned at the man as if he were dense. “I’m here to pick up my shipment, and so far all I’ve done is waste my time. Where the hell are the women?”

  The three men exchanged looks.

  The blond man lowered his rifle and stepped closer. Jess cringed when his pale blue eyes swept down the front of her, then to Madrid. “I asked you your name.”

  “David Collins,” Madrid lied smoothly. “We’ve been waiting for an hour. Someone was supposed to meet us on deck, but no one showed.”

  Pale blue eyes landed on Jess. “Your name.”

  “T-Trish C-Cooper.” She hoped her neighbor back in Phoenix didn’t mind her using her name.

  “This is a secure area. Off-limits to you.”

  Madrid made a sound of frustration. “Look, all I want is what I paid—”

  Too quick for the eye to follow, the blond man spun the rifle and rammed the butt into Madrid’s solar plexus. Air whooshed from his lungs and his knees buckled, hitting the floor with a thud.

  Jess screamed, but before she could move the rifle came down a second time on the back of Madrid’s neck with bone-crushing force. He reeled forward, would have gone down completely, but he broke his fall with his hands.

  Jess knelt at his side. “My God, are you all right?”

  When Madrid managed only a croak, she glared at the blond man. “Why did you do that?”

  “I have no tolerance for liars,” said the man.

  Taking her lead from Madrid’s earlier statements, Jess elaborated. “We were asked to come here. Something about a shipment. I don’t know what kind of shipment and I don’t care.” She motioned toward Madrid. “We do not deserve this kind of treatment.”

  The blonde’s lip curled. “I don’t believe them.”

  The other two men exchanged looks.

  Madrid raised his head. “Maybe you ought to check with your boss, Einstein,” he said between gritted teeth. “While you’re at it, tell him you’re beating the hell out of his best customer.”

  The men shuffled their feet. The rifles were lowered, but only marginally. “Maybe we ought to call this in,” said a muscle-bound man in a cheap blue suit.

  Never taking his eyes from Madrid and Jess, the blond man worked a cell phone from his jacket pocket and punched in numbers.

  Jess couldn’t believe this was happening. They’d been so close to getting out. Next to her, Madrid was still on his hands and knees trying to catch his breath. That was when she spotted the bulge of the pistol at the small of his back. Her heart banged like a jackhammer against her ribs. Even though they were outnumbered, she wondered if he had a plan. If he was buying time. If he was going to do something nuts…

  While the blonde spoke into the phone, the third man motioned toward Madrid with his rifle. “Search him.”

  The man in the blue suit stepped forward. Setting his boot against Madrid’s back, he leaned forward and yanked the pistol from his waistband. “My, my, my, what do we have here?”

  “Protection against thugs like you,” Jess said. But in the back of her mind she was wondering what was going to happen when they found the duffel with the camera and other incriminating items inside. Last time she’d seen it, the bag had been tied to Madrid’s belt. A covert glance told her it was no longer there. Where was it? Had he ditched it when he realized they weren’t going to get away?

  “I’ll cuff him,” the third man said to the man in the blue suit. Then he looked at Jess. “Search her.”

  Another wave of dread swamped her. Jess knew once Madrid was bound there would be no escaping whatever these monsters had planned.

  The man in the blue suit leered at Jess, his grin revealing stained teeth. “That’ll be my pleasure.”

  Jess gasped when he gripped her arm and yanked her to her feet. “Put your hands up and spread those pretty legs of yours,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Next to her, Madrid straightened just as the third man reached into his pocket. Jess spotted nylon restraints and her heart went wild in her chest.

  “Cuff him.” The man in the blue suit licked his lips, his eyes flicking to Jess. “Then we’ll have us some fun.”

  His eyes were alight with some dark anticipation she did not want to think about. Dread rose in her chest when she realized both she and Madrid would soon be at their mercy.

  “I said put your hands up,” the man in the blue suit ordered. “Now.”

  Feeling trapped and vulnerable, Jess looked around. But there was no one to come to their rescue. Even if Madrid managed to avoid the cuffs and get to his feet, they were outmanned and outgunned.

  There was no escape.

  Heart pounding, she raised her hands to shoulder height. “I’m unarmed. You don’t need to search me.” She tried to make her voice sound strong, but her throat was so tight she managed little more than a whisper.

  The man in the blue suit put down Madrid’s pistol and stepped toward her. “I think I’ll just check for myself. You look like a woman who’s got lots of hiding places.”

  Jess could tell by the glint in his eyes that once he put his hands on her he wasn’t going to stop with a simple search.

  In her peripheral vision she saw Madrid holding his stomach and struggling to his feet. The third man stood behind him, ready to snap the cuffs into place. But Jess could plainly see that both men’s attention was on her. Running his tongue over his lips, he slowly patted her down. The outside of her thighs. Her calves. Then he began working his way back up.

  The man’s hands paused just below her breasts. Jess forced herself to make eye contact. “Don’t,” she said.

  The man’s eyes glinted like a rat’s. “Who’s going to stop me?”

  Madrid moved so fast and unexpectedly that Jess didn’t have time to get out of the way. The man in the blue suit brought up his rifle, but he wasn’t fast enough. Madrid thrust his arm forward and she heard a loud crack. The other man went rigid and an instant later collapsed, his body convulsing.

  Jess didn’t know what was happening. The only information her brain processed was that Madrid had some kind of weapon that was quickly evening the odds. The blond man dropp
ed the phone and grabbed for his rifle, but Madrid kicked the barrel. An errant gunshot exploded as Madrid tagged the blonde. Electric current snapped through the air hitting the blond man and knocking him to the floor.

  Jess spun to the other man, but she wasn’t fast enough. He dived at her and wrapped his left arm around her while going for the pistol with his right hand.

  “Madrid!” she screamed. “Gun!”

  The force of his body slamming into hers knocked her off her feet. As she fell, all Jess could think about was getting to the gun, keeping him from shooting Madrid. She twisted in midair. In her peripheral vision she spotted Madrid rushing toward them. She glimpsed his furious dark eyes, his lips pulled back into a snarl.

  The gun came up, leveled on Madrid.

  Oh, dear God, no!

  Acting on impulse, she thrust the heel of her hand at the pistol. The barrel shifted and the gun exploded inches from her ear, deafening her. As if in slow motion Madrid aimed his palm-size weapon at the man. Another loud crack rent the air. The man’s body went rigid, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat.

  The next thing Jess knew she was lying on the floor, trying to catch her breath. Her ears were ringing, her body felt as if it had been run over by a tank and she couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Easy.” Strong arms pulled her to her feet. “Didn’t mean to hit you with that.”

  Madrid, she thought dazedly, and reached for him. “What happened?”

  Setting his hand against her cheek, he ducked his head and met her gaze. “You got your feet under you?”

  Jess hadn’t quite decided, but she nodded. “What is that in your hand?”

  He brandished the small object. “Mini stun gun.”

  The weapon was the size of a garage door opener. Judging from the three men laid out on the floor, it packed a hell of a lot more punch. “You hit me with it?”

  “Current went through the goon and into you.” He rubbed his thumb against her cheek. “I’m sorry about that.”

  If she hadn’t been so shaken, so terrified, Jess might have been angry; she might even have laughed. At the moment all she wanted to do was get out of there.

  “Where on earth did you get it?” she asked.

  “It was in Angela’s bag of tricks.”

  “Pretty high-tech.”

  “And then some.”

  The sound of footsteps punctuated the statement. Madrid looked over his shoulder, his expression turning grave. “We’re going to have to split up.”

  “No.”

  Grasping her arms, he gave her a gentle shake, his gaze seeking hers. “Listen to me, Jess. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  The last thing Jess wanted to do was split up, but her instincts told her to trust Madrid. Maybe because she knew he was the kind of man who would sacrifice himself to keep her safe. At the moment she didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  Grabbing his pistol from the floor, he chambered a bullet and handed it to her. “It’s ready to go. Use it if you need to. Don’t trust anyone but me.”

  Without giving her time to debate, he spun her around, shoved her in the direction from which they’d come. “Run. Get back on deck, then get off the ship any way you can.”

  Jess risked a look back at him. He’d started in the direction of the footsteps. “You can’t walk right into the lion’s den,” she said.

  He grinned. “The lion’s den is my specialty,” he replied, and disappeared down the darkened hall.

  THE CORRIDORS CREAKED like the underbelly of some ancient, arthritic beast. Jess’s sneakers pounded against the steel floor as she ran down the corridor. At some point flashing red lights had come on as if to signal some kind of emergency—or, in this case, a security breach.

  She ran as she had never run before. Terror followed her every step of the way. She could hear her breaths echoing off the walls. She passed several hatches, but couldn’t remember which one she and Madrid had entered. She was afraid to stop. Afraid the men with guns would find her and kill her…or worse.

  Run. Get back on deck, then get off the ship any way you can.

  Madrid’s words reverberated inside her head. If only she could remember how to reach the deck.

  Another corridor veered right. Jess stopped, vacillated. She tried hard to remember if they’d come that way, but couldn’t. She wasn’t familiar with the ship’s layout. In the flashing lights, everything looked the same. In the back of her mind she wondered how Madrid was faring.

  Behind her, the sound of leather soles against steel sent her heart into her throat. Down the hall. Too close for comfort. Jess took the corridor, threw herself into an all-out sprint. All the while she could hear the footsteps getting closer, the men gaining on her.

  She passed another corridor, ducked into it without forethought and found herself in a stairwell landing. Steel grid steps led down and up. She went up, taking the steps two at a time. Somewhere behind her a hatch slammed and shouting echoed all around her.

  She passed another landing, the door to which was marked Minus One. She used the steel rail to fling herself around the corner. Her legs burned as she took the next flight up, but she didn’t stop. The next door was marked Zero. Jess attacked the wheel lock, spun it as fast as she could. Steel creaked when she shoved it open.

  Relief poured through her when cold and rain met her face. All she could think was that she’d made it out of hell. Her relief was short-lived, though, as the beam of a spotlight flashed by. Thrusting herself through the door, Jess looked around and tried to get her bearings. Several spotlights had come on since she and Madrid had gone below deck. Silhouetted against the night sky, she saw the deckhouse and realized she’d somehow run the length of the ship. If she remembered correctly, they had entered near the deckhouse.

  To her right, a cable rail denoted the edge of the ship. To her left was a small, lighted structure, one side of which was lined with fifty-gallon drums. Several wooden pallets were stacked neatly along the other side. Planning to use the drums and pallets as cover, Jess left the hatch. Her heart pounded as she crossed an open area. If the spotlight landed on her here, she would be in plain sight.

  She barely noticed the rain soaking her as she neared the pallets. She was a few feet away when sudden bright light blinded her. An authoritative male voice penetrated the fog of terror.

  “Halt! Put your hands up! Now!”

  Instinct kicked in. Jess spun and bolted. She didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was if they caught her, they would kill her.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  The words were punctuated by the thunk, thunk, thunk of gunfire. A pallet less than a foot away from her exploded. Disbelief and terror tore through her.

  She crossed the deck at a reckless speed. Rain and wind blinded her, but she didn’t slow down. She could hear the men behind her, their angry shouts rising above the din of rain.

  She reached the rail. To her left she saw men racing toward her, flashlight beams bobbing. To her right was another small building, with a closed hatch. Was it locked?

  “Put your hands up now!”

  Get off the ship any way you can.

  Madrid’s words came to her like a beacon out of the darkness. Jess knew what she had to do.

  Her legs shook violently as she hauled herself over the rail. More shouting sounded behind her, but she barely heard it over her wildly pounding heart.

  She looked into the black abyss of the bay below. It was so dark she couldn’t even tell how far the fall would be. All she could do now was pray it didn’t kill her.

  “Stop!”

  Closing her eyes, Jess said a silent prayer and flung herself into the darkness.

  Chapter Twelve

  The water slapped her like a giant icy hand, then swallowed her whole. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs; the cold stole what little she had left.

  It was like being sucked into a bottomless, icy abyss. Every sense in her body screamed with shock. She didn’t know how
deep she’d gone. Didn’t know what horrors lay above—or below. The only thing she knew for certain at the moment was that she wanted to live.

  Jess kicked with all her might, but her clothes and shoes felt like lead weights. She didn’t know if she was making any progress, but the alternative to drowning was too horrendous to contemplate.

  She broke the surface a moment later, choking and coughing. Rain and wind buffeted her. A wave swamped her and she swallowed a mouthful of the sea. She tasted saltwater and panic and the hard edge of her own fear. In the back of her mind she wondered if Madrid had gotten off the ship. If he had survived. If she would ever see him again. The thought of him gave her the strength she needed.

  Treading water, she looked around and tried to get her bearings. Above her the ship rose out of the water like a steel iceberg. A single spotlight shone down, but it was a good fifty feet away from where she’d fallen. They were looking for her. That meant she didn’t have much time.

  Turning, she spotted the concrete pier twenty yards away. Jutting ten feet out of the water, it would be a tough climb. But Jess thought there would probably be places she could get a grip or maybe a dangling rope she could grab.

  The swim to the pier seemed to take forever. The cold was quickly zapping her strength. Once the searchlight from the ship came within ten feet of her and she had to duck beneath the surface. She knew sharks were the least of her worries, taking into consideration the men with semiautomatic weapons, but the entire time she couldn’t stop thinking about all the unsavory creatures lurking in the deep.

  By the time her hands made contact with the concrete, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to pull herself out of the water. For several seconds she clung to the pier, shaking with cold and exhaustion, gasping for breath. Her teeth chattered as she looked around.

  There were still lights visible aboard the Dorian Rae, but the spotlights had been doused. Did that mean they’d stopped looking for her? Where was Madrid?

  Knowing the water was stealing her body heat and strength at an alarming rate, Jess maneuvered along the barnacle-covered pier until she came to a rope hanging down from an old bumper float. Now, if she could find the strength to pull herself up and out of the water.

 

‹ Prev