“TYLER, COLLINS, TANK, REPORT,” Luna said through the comm.
Tyler answered first. “Still in position, dock clear.”
“No change on the access road,” Collins added.
Silence.
“Tank, report,” Luna ordered.
“Tracking movement, hold,” Tank whispered, before coming back thirty seconds later. “Okay, those API fucks are closing the port authority office. They locked the door and are heading toward personal vehicles now.”
“I thought the port didn’t close,” Luna interjected.
“It shouldn’t,” Neil answered.
“Come on,” Talon scoffed. “You think any container on that ship is legal? Those fucks leavin’ were paid mad pesos to go have a liquid lunch. Tequila if they’re smart.”
“Doesn’t look like they’re coming back,” Tank added.
“Hold up,” Luna cut in. “We got movement. Two guards from the panel vans that pulled up are boarding the ship.”
I trained my scope to the rear of the ship and tracked the two men.
“Okay,” Luna drew the word out. “Here we go.”
When we’d arrived twenty minutes late because of the incident with our driver, the ship had been docked, and there had been men in two panel vans waiting close by. Having split up the few weapons and ammo Tank had gotten, we had then approached the port from two different directions, spreading out in degrees to avoid being seen.
Talon, Luna, and I had rifles with scopes. Neil had a 9mm and a shotgun. Tank had an AK-47, and Tyler and Collins had their 9mms. Luna had parceled out the weapons. No one had objected until we saw the men in the panel vans had automatic weapons. Then Talon had tried to unsuccessfully bargain with Tank for the AK-47.
“They’re headin’ toward one of the containers and openin’ it,” Talon said quietly. “Oh yeah, showtime.”
I watched through my scope as one of the men opened the container while another held his machine gun pointed at the door. I could see his mouth move, barking orders, but I could not hear what they were saying.
Slow, as if it were rusted and heavy, the door swung open.
A disheveled female who was not Emily stumbled out with her hands on her head.
My heart kicked against my chest.
“One hostage,” Luna whispered.
A second later, a blonde female came out with her hands on her head.
“Two hostages,” Luna added.
I stared through the scope as André counted off. Three… four… five women came out of the container.
Not six.
No Emily.
“Jesucristo,” Luna swore through the comm as the last female emerged and one of the guards closed the door. “I’m going to kill that pendejo. That last one is a child, a fucking niña.”
“Do not shoot,” I warned in a whisper. “No Emily.”
“I see, I see.” Luna swore again. “Christensen, what do you have on your side? Any movement?”
“No change,” Neil answered, his voice too deep to whisper.
“Talerco?” Luna asked.
“Port’s still clear,” Talon answered. “But the captain and crew disappeared when those fucks with automatics boarded. This place is makin’ my skin crawl. Shit ain’t right. Come on, let’s just pluck these fuckers off, grab the girls and get the hell outta here.”
“No,” I warned. “No visual on Emily yet. We wait.”
“Confirm. Hold positions,” Luna ordered. “I’ve still got visual on the two guards with the women. There heading off the ship. Anyone see anybody else on board?”
Talon, Neil, Collins and Tyler answered in the negative.
I scanned the length of the ship again. On my second pass, I caught movement on the far side of the deck. “I have movement. Wait for confirmation.”
“Oh, shit,” Tyler swore. “We got company, boss.”
“Convoy coming this way,” Tank confirmed. “Two, three… now four semis, and three more panel vans like the ones already parked are pulling in.”
“What the fuck?” Talon asked. “For six stolen women?”
“Christo,” Luna cursed. “I wish they were old enough to be women. Heads-up, Christensen. Two guards and five girls coming your way.”
Neil said something in Danish.
My scope trained where I saw the movement, I waited, but nothing else materialized.
“Vikin’, you want me to take the guard in the rear when you’re ready?” Talon asked.
“Ja,” Neil confirmed.
“Convoy’s past the gate, pulling in front of the panel vans now,” Tank interjected. “Semis are trailer ready. Panel van drivers are talking.”
“Anyone see that? Far side of the ship?” Collins interrupted. “I’ve got movement. No uniform, it’s not crew. There’s someone else still on the ship.”
“Front end?” I asked.
“No, midship now,” Collins answered. “All I caught was a glimpse of dark hair and a blue shirt. It was male.”
I pulled away from my scope and looked across the sea of cargo containers stacked two and three tall to where Luna was lying prone on top of one, exposed, just like me. I lifted my chin.
Luna nodded at me in response. “Collins, get a visual. Estevez was last seen in a blue shirt.”
“Copy that,” Collins replied. “Hold.”
My heart racing, my pulse pounding, my anger mounted. Where was she?
“I need a head count on that convoy, Tank,” Luna ordered.
“Two with each semi, looks like two with each van. Twenty head count so far, all armed.”
“Mierda.” Luna rolled out of position and reversed his aim, looking through his scope. “Neil, Tyler, Collins, Tank, you good to cover the semis?”
“We will handle it,” Neil replied.
“Talerco, you and I are covering the vans.” Luna issued more orders. “Anders, you got the ship. Keep an eye out for her.”
I watched the two guards walk down the plank with the females. “I need to board.”
“No,” André barked. “It’s too exposed, and you’ll have no backup.”
I always hunted alone.
“Got a visual, back of ship, coming toward the plank,” Collins reported. “Looks like Estevez. He has a woman in tow, and shit, we got more company. A crane operator swinging his crane toward the Altamira, and… yep. He’s starting to unload the containers off the ship.”
Tank cut in. “Semis are moving. Heading toward the crane.”
“I don’t give a shit about the containers. We’re not letting them take the women,” André warned. “They’re closing in on the vans.”
“Gotcha covered,” Talon drawled. “Vikin’, you ready?”
“Ja.”
“We fire, we’re going to have twenty guns shooting back,” Tyler warned. “We let the vans leave and follow, we double our odds.”
“Negative,” Talon replied. “Half the streets ’round here ain’t marked, and who the hell knows what kinda bullshit trap they could lead us into. Window’s now. Vikin’ and me’ll take ’em out, you and Ivy grab the girls, Tank will cover. We’ll be right behind ya.”
A dark-haired man came around the side of a cargo container dragging a woman. Barefoot, her head down, her hands duct taped, it was her. He had my angel.
Rage hit.
I did not use the comm to confirm her sighting. I did not broadcast my intent. I did not say one word.
I was moving.
Shouldering my rifle, I was off the container and running through aisles and aisles of stacked metal. Before I cleared the last container, I swung my rifle back around. Leading with the muzzle, I got the man dragging Emily in my sights just as shots rang out behind me.
Halfway down the ramp, the man’s head whipped up and he froze for half a second.
It was all the opening I needed.
I pulled the trigger.