Page 25 of Grayson

“Could you use this?” asked U-Jin. Hunter stared at the device in his hand and frowned.

“Where the fuck did you get that?” he asked.

“It was near the cage. I suspect he used it on the children and their teacher.”

“You used an electric cattle prod on kids?” frowned Hunter. “Forget what I offered. You’re a dead man.”

“No! No, wait! Lacroix, he went to see the boss. He wants men in order to be able to find the woman. He’s got the ship waiting to take her away.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it,” smiled Moose. The man smiled with relief at the big man across from him. He never noticed the other man pointing a weapon at his temple.

“Shut the door,” said Grayson as they left the cellar. “It should smell nice and ripe by the time they find them. Until then, we go back and stakeout Moreau’s house.”

“I will take the ship,” said U-Jin.

“You can’t do it alone, brother,” said Hunter. U-Jin stared at him and gave a short nod. Hunter turned to Brunson and Sonny. “You and you. Come with us.”

“Oh man,” smiled Sonny. “I’m getting the feeling that this will be a masterclass in special operations.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The freighter moved without lights beyond the harbor mouth, a slab of rust-black steel shouldering through a moonless sea. Hunter caught the low rail first, pulled himself over, and turned to steady the climbing line while U-Jin, Sonny, and Brunson came up behind him. None of them spoke. Below, their skiff was veiled with the stealth netting. Her magnetic line connected to the rusted freighter until they needed it.

Hunter raised two fingers and pointed aft.

“Engine room first,” he breathed. “No gunfire unless we lose the choice.” U-Jin nodded once.

“Then let’s keep our choices.”

Sonny checked the narrow passage beside the stacked containers, while Brunson watched the bridge windows glowing faintly above the superstructure. The ship smelled of salt, diesel, and something sour rolling from the ventilators.

They crossed the main deck in single file, timing each movement to the pulse of the engines. Crates lashed beneath tarps bore false customs marks, but one corner had torn loose, exposing rifles packed in grease paper. Farther forward, sealed drums sweated chemical fumes into the night.

A deckhand stepped from behind a winch with a cigarette cupped in his palm. His eyes widened.

Sonny reached him before surprise became sound, caught his wrist, and lowered him behind a coil of tow rope.

“Easy,” Sonny whispered. “Go to sleep and you get to wake up.” Brunson bound the man’s hands and covered his mouth while Gunner listened for footsteps.

A metallic clang rang out somewhere above them. All four froze. A flashlight beam swept across the container tops, paused, then slid away.

“That wasn’t wind,” Brunson murmured. Hunter waited through three slow breaths.

“We’ve been noticed,” he said. “They just don’t know what they noticed.”

The watertight door to the machinery spaces resisted until U-Jin slipped a tool into its latch. Heat rushed over them as it opened, carrying the thunder of the main diesel. They descended grated stairs past pipes, gauges, and yellow handrails, each level louder than the one above.

At the lower platform, the engine rose through the room like a building, its housings trembling under dull red work lamps. U-Jin studied the control cabinets and fuel lines while Hunter and Brunson took opposite walkways. Sonny stayed by the stairs, eyes fixed on the shadows above.

“How long?” Hunter asked.

“Seven minutes if nobody interrupts me,” U-Jin said. Sonny glanced upward.

“Then call it four.”

A wrench struck the grating on the level overhead. It bounced once, twice, then dropped past Sonny’s shoulder into darkness. He looked up through the steel lattice and saw boots moving toward the alarm station.

“Company,” he warned. Brunson peeled away from the rail.