Page 406 of Hidden Depths
“Ward Allen.”
The younger man who had spoken to Storm.
I stopped outside the wheelhouse.
“You have something I want,” he continued.
“And you have something that belongs to Storm.”
Hazel screamed somewhere above us.
My hands tightened around my weapon.
“Bring the guard you took from the cannery to the upper deck.”
“He isn’t here.”
“Then bring Storm.”
“No.”
A low laugh filled the yacht.
“August said you’d answer that way.”
“August Ross isn’t here to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
The speakers went silent.
John pointed toward the narrow stairs leading to the flybridge.
Two shadows moved above us.
One man.
Hazel.
I signaled for John to circle through the exterior walkway.
He disappeared into the smoke.
I climbed the first step.
“Hazel?”
“Don’t come up!”
Her voice trembled.
But she sounded angry.
Good.
Anger kept people alive.
