“Hey, baby,” Dash answered immediately.
“Hi.”
“What’s wrong?”
The way my man could tell my moods just by the tone of my voice was still kind of amazing to me. “Something’s happened to Poppy. Gator’s really worried.”
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
I relayed our conversation, leaving out the swearing bits and Dash sighed. “Fuck.”
I bit my lip. “This is really bad, isn’t it?”
“You do not leave that compound—”
“Unless Gator tells me to,” I said. “I know, honey. I won’t.”
“I hate being in this fuckin’ hospital bed,” he hissed.
“I don’t particularly like it either,” I said.
“Tomorrow, baby. I’m out.”
“Dash,” I admonished. “You can’t leave tomorrow. You just had surgery.”
He sighed.
“Dash. Promise me. If I’m locked down here, you’re locked down there.”
“Yeah, baby, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“Correct answer,” I said. “Am I allowed to come to you tonight?”
“If Gator okays it.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Fine.”
“Baby, this is serious. We’ve been dealin’ with a mole for a little while, but I don’t think anyone expected it to be Curly.”
“What?” I whispered. “I didn’t know there was a mole.”
“I know, baby.”
“This is where I start to get frustrated, Dash.”
“I get it, Willow, but you’ll just need to stow it for a little bit. Once Hatch figures out someone has Poppy, shit’s gonna hit the fan.”
“Or Devon,” I countered.
“Huh-uh. I mean, I know Devon’s gonna lose his shit, but Hatch will rage, and Curly’s gonna fuckin’ regret this move... if he lives, that is.”
I gasped. “He wouldn’t kill someone, would he?”
“No, Willow, he wouldn’t kill someone,” he deadpanned.
“Don’t use that tone,” I ground out. “It wasn’t a stupid question.”
“Never said it was a stupid question, baby... just tryin’ to make you feel better. I’m aware that murder is frowned upon in those Ten Commandments of yours, and if you think Hatch is capable of murder, it might change your opinion of the man.”
I sighed. “I’m a little concerned you know me well enough to lie the right way.”
He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”
“I’m coming to the hospital later, honey. I am not spending a night without you.”
“Let me check in with Gator first.”
“It’s not really open for discussion, Dash. I’m coming.” I busied myself by making a large urn of coffee. I was never very good at sticking to one task... I always felt I needed to multitask.
“Yeah, I hear you. I’ll figure it out.”
“You do that.”
“Bossy little thing, huh?”
“That’s on you, bub. You released my inner vixen.”
Dash laughed and I couldn’t help but smile. “Fuck, I love you, Willow.”
“Love you, too.”
“I’ll talk to Gator and we’ll figure somethin’ out, okay?”
“Okay, honey,” I said as I set the coffee to brew. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“’Bye, baby.”
He hung up and I went looking for some answers. I was on call to make lunch for everyone, but right now, I needed to know what was going on with Poppy... and find out just how much danger she was in.
Devon
“Everybody look sharp, we’ll be making contact in less than three minutes,” agent Kahler called out. “Doc, radio back to base and let them know our status and confirm our position.”
“Copy,” Doc said, and did as requested.
We had one shot to get this right, and to pull it off we had to be convincing. Everyone on board looked the part. We were clean shaven and in uniform. It was actually a little unsettling to see my brothers looking so “civilized,” and I wondered what Poppy might have to say, from a research standpoint. Regardless, we had to tread very carefully.
We had a chance of boarding without incident if the Russians believed we were simply a fish and game patrol cruiser, but if they smelled either the FBI or the club, we were in for some serious trouble. The closer we got to our target, the Iolanta, the more I thought about Poppy, and how pissed she’d be if I went and got myself dead. I had no intention of inciting her anger, but I did say a little prayer for coverage.
No more time to think. We were coming up on their ship, and we were coming in fast. If we gave them enough time to react to our approach, they might get spooked and open fire, or worse yet, kill the girls just to keep them from talking. Finally, just as we arrived, agent Kahler signaled for Doc to hit the lights and sirens.
“This is the Georgia State Fish and Wildlife service. We request immediate access to your vessel for inspection. I repeat, we are wardens from Fish and Wildlife service requesting to board your vessel according to state code 27-5-4,” agent Kahler called out through the boat’s loudspeaker. Please respond.”
Doc cut the sirens, and after ten seconds without a reply, agent Kahler continued, “This is the Georgia State Fish and Wildlife service requesting permission to board the commercial vessel Iolanta. We are armed and are permitted by law to search your vessel for potential illegal catches from these waters.”
We had no idea if they’d respond, or worse yet, if they’d respond with bullets. After a few more, very tense, seconds, a voice responded, “This is Captain Vasili Sokolov of the Iolanta. I believe you must have made a mistake, we are not a fishing vessel, as you can see. We are a cargo ship only.”
“Captain, we have reports of illegal fishing in these waters by commercial vessels and we will be boarding your ship for inspection. Please allow access and ready your crew for immediate boarding.” Agent Kahler’s voice was intense and commanding, and without further dialogue, a rope ladder appeared from our enemy’s ship.
“Here we go. Everyone look sharp and don’t make a move without my say so.” Kahler’s eyes darted to each of us, stopping on Alamo. “You solid?”
“Fuckin’ A. Let’s do this,” he responded.
We all had side arms, and Doc and Alamo were also armed with a Colt M4 assault rifle and a Remington 870 shotgun, respectively. These were standard issue for law enforcement, but we were still going in about as heavy as possible without drawing too much suspicion. That was the idea, anyway. If these Russian assholes had itchy trigger fingers, we were gonna have to find cover quickly and pray our Kevlar vests did their jobs.
By the time we hit the deck, Captain Vasili and about a half-dozen crew members were on deck. However, rather than a barrage of bullets, we were greeted with open arms and smiles all around. I wasn’t sure which was more unsettling.
“Officer, welcome aboard, how can I—”
“It’s Warden,” agent Kahler’s alter-ego interrupted. “Captain, where is the rest of your crew?”
“They are in... various places performing their duties. This is most of our crew. The rest are of no consequence.” Captain Vasili’s accent was thick, and he looked like a man who’d spent his entire life on a ship; at very rough seas.
“Captain, I’m going to need to see your entire crew on deck, right away.”
I saw the captain briefly eyeball our weapons. His sly smile masking any trace of concerns he may have. I almost wanted a reason to shoot this fat, greasy, sea pimp. He nodded to a tall man who appeared to be his Lieutenant, who then made an announcement in Russian over the loudspeaker.
“I said all crewmembers, Captain, not just critical personnel,” agent Kahler said, closing the distance between himself and Captain Vasili, his hand now covering his sidearm.
“You speak Russian?” The Captain smiled wide.
“Fluently,” Kahler replied with an icy tone.
Once again, the captain nodded to his s
econd, who made yet another announcement, and this time crew members began filing onto the deck.
Alamo, Doc and I formed a semi-circle around the crew and ushered them against the rail. As instructed by our FBI handlers, we were firm, but non-aggressive, pleasant, but not nice. To my eye, these guys mostly looked like guys that work aboard boats. Bad guys come in all shapes and sizes, but having been around my fair share in my lifetime, I simply wasn’t getting that kind of vibe from this crew.
“I count only eleven crew members here? Seems a little light for a vessel of this size.”
“Does it? As you can see, we currently have only a dozen containers on board. We work for a small group of Vodka makers who distribute their product the United States. We hire who we can afford at the time of shipment. Unfortunately, business has not been so good, given our two countries’... political situations, but perhaps you are right, Warden. Perhaps we are a bit... shorthanded at the moment.”
“Sir, you and your men are to stay right here with my wardens as we search your ship for any illegal catch or unlicensed commercial fishing gear,” Kohler said.
“Now, wait one minute, you have already told me you are not a police officer, you can’t search my ship without my permission.” Captain Vasili’s tone changed immediately.
“Sir, Fish and Wildlife wardens in the state of Georgia actually have greater authority than state or county police in the matters of search and seizure. I’m gonna need you to comply or we will be forced to detain you while we perform our search.”
I don’t know if Kahler was bullshitting about jurisdiction, but it sure sounded convincing. Captain Vasili’s slimy smile returned to his face. “There will be no need for that, Warden, I assure you. You have the full co-operation of me... and my crew.”
“Good, then you can start by taking me to your wheelhouse and showing me your manifest and your log books immediately. We’re also going to need keys, and/or codes for every one of your containers.”
Sweat began to form on the captain’s upper lip. His eyes darted to his lieutenant, then to an open doorway that appeared to lead to one of the ship’s interior hallways.
“Captain. Do you understand my instructions?” Kahler asked, drawing his attention back to him.
“Yes, yes of course. But, surely, this can’t be about some... silly fish?” the captain said, waving his arms in the air. “Perhaps you and your men are looking for... donations to the Wildlife Warden’s retirement fund? Perhaps we should go talk somewhere privately and I can see what we can do for you.”
“The only place we’re going to go is up to your wheelhouse, so I can see your logs,” Kahler continued.
While he was speaking, I spied the Lieutenant reaching into his inside coat pocket.
“Gun!” I shouted.
Agent Kahler drew his Glock 9mm, and got a wide shot off before his opponent could level his gun. The bullet hit him in the shoulder with such impact that he spun around and hit the deck. Kahler now pointed his gun at the captain, while Doc covered the unconscious number two man, and Alamo and I covered the crew, who all looked scared as shit. I picked up the discarded weapon from the deck and tucked it into the back of my waistband.
“He can’t be the only guard on this ship,” Kahler said before grabbing the captain by his stained shirt and sticking the muzzle of his gun directly into his enormous gut. “How many guards are on board? Where are the girls? Which container are they being held in?”
“What the hell is this? Who are you?” the captain protested.
“My name is Special Agent Kahler with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. These men are sworn deputies, and I’m only going to ask you one more time before I plug you full of so many holes, you’ll instantly sink when I toss you overboard.
“One more,” he said, his eyes starting to bulge.
Agent Kahler tightened the grip on the captain’s shirt collar and dug his gun in deeper, causing the captain to wince in pain, his air supply now being cut off. “Tell me the truth, or this bad day is gonna get a lot worse for you, comrade.”
“T..t..two,” he sputtered out. “Two more, that’s it, I sw... swear it.”
“Where are the girls?”
The Captain hesitated for exactly one second longer than Kahler was willing to wait. He pulled the hammer back with a click. “Container nineteen!” the captain sputtered out. “They are in container nineteen. It’s red. Located on the aft, port side of the ship, lower level.”
“What’s the code for the container lock?” Kahler asked.
Captain Vasili looked at him surprised.
“There are two security panels. The code on the left panel is 1542 and the other is—?”
“Shut up you fool! You’ll get us all killed!” Doc’s patient, now fully lucid, shouted to the captain, no doubt in fear for what their employers in Russia would do to them.
Doc pushed him squarely back to the deck, reminding him who he should currently be afraid of. “How about you take your own advice and shut the fuck up.”
“And the guards?” Kahler asked.
“I don’t know, I swear to you. They could be anywhere on the ship right now,” Captain Vasili said.
Kahler let go of the bulky man, who hit the deck with a thud, then turned to Doc. “Cuff both of ’em, and see if you can stop his bleeding with what we have in the kit. Keep the others on the crew. I’m gonna go find that container before the other guards to something with the girls.”
“You can’t go up there alone,” Doc ground out.
“I can’t ask one of you to go with me. I can handle this alone.”
“You’re out of your god damn mind if you think I’m letting you run around the ship alone without knowing what’s up there,” Doc said.
“I’ll go with him,” I said.
“No way, Sparky,” Doc replied. “I’m going.”
“We don’t have time to argue. You need to stay here and make sure he doesn’t bleed out,” I said, motioning to the wounded Russian who, as if on cue, let out a low moan which momentarily diverted Doc’s attention to his newly assigned patient.
Before Doc could protest further, Agent Kahler and I made our way toward the open doorway that led to the ship’s interior. The containers were stacked on the upper level, which was accessed via a stairwell. Honestly, I don’t know what compelled me to volunteer to act as agent Kahler’s back up. Alamo was clearly a better candidate. In fact, I was probably gonna catch hell from the Sargent at Arms when we got back; if we got back.
Which made me think of the other reason I shouldn’t be doing this; Poppy. I told her I wouldn’t take unnecessary risks or intentionally put myself in harm’s way, but that’s exactly what I was doing. Maybe I was trying to prove something to the club, or perhaps even to myself. Maybe it was my outrage at the fact that these men abused and sold women that compelled me to act. I don’t know, but before I knew it I was right behind agent Kahler headed towards certain doom.
Poppy
“Get up,” Curly ordered, wrapping his hand around my upper arm and hauling me to my feet.
“Why?”
“I’m takin’ you to your daddy.”
“Why?” I repeated.
“For someone who didn’t have any questions earlier, you’re sure full of ’em now.”
I scowled.
He released my handcuff and I took my opportunity to attack, kicking him squarely in the family jewels and making a mad dash for the slightly open door.
Where I was stopped.
By a beefy arm around my waist, cutting off my air supply. I heard a slight crunch and sudden pain in my ribs, but I’d be damned if I let them see me wince. I scowled up at my captor, surprised to see Roach, one of the Clubs soldiers.
Shit, there’s more than one mole.
“You fuckin’ bitch!” Curly squealed, and I couldn’t stop a slight smile at the high-pitch of his voice.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” Roach sneered.
“You’re not going to do anythin
g to me,” I countered, trying to sound like I wasn’t scared shitless. “You touch me, you die, and you know Hatch won’t make it fast.”
“Roach, let her go,” Curly said as he hobbled toward us.
Roach released me and I stepped away from him. I had nowhere to go... we were in a dark hallway and there was only one door with light under it. There was no way I could outrun Roach, and to be honest, even though Curly had wounded nuts, I probably couldn’t outrun him either... especially with the pain in my side.
Whatever they’d injected me with was starting to wear off and my head pounded harder than ever, my stomach was threatening to revolt, and the fear I’d been able to stuff before was forcing its way into every nerve in my body.
I wanted Devon. I wanted him to find me and hold me while my dad killed the two men in front of me.
Curly crossed his arms and said, “You’re gonna—”
Before he got the rest of his threat out, I puked.
Spectacularly.
All over Roach’s jeans and boots.
“Goddammit!” he snapped, jumping away from me.
I spit on the ground and sidled away from what used to be the contents of my stomach.
Curly grabbed my arm again and dragged me away from Roach. “Clean yourself up,” he ordered his cohort, and guided me through the door and into a warehouse.
“You’re a pain in the fuckin’ ass,” Curly hissed.
“Did you really think I’d make whatever you plan to do to me easy?”
He scowled, but didn’t respond.
Smart man.
“Well, there she is,” a southern voice drawled and I stared at a smarmy looking man in a suit. It was white. He looked like the KFC colonel in his younger days. “Welcome to our humble offices. It is so nice to finally meet you.”
I said nothing as I tried my best to stare him down.
“Now, little lady, there’s no need for that. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’re just here for... let’s say... insurance purposes.”
“I think you mean, you’re kidnapping me for leverage against the club.”
He chuckled without mirth. “Oh, my word, you are as smart as you are pretty.”
The Longing (Dogs of Fire: Wolfpack, #2) Page 15