Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,89

the Toyota and marvel at the range of equipment stuffed inside. Debbie isn’t messing around. There is a camera with an assortment of lenses, including a very expensive super-telephoto zoom lens. There are bugs, which I will not have time to set, and a parabolic microphone, as well as a video camera and a variety of tripods.

I pluck out the camera, the telephoto lens, and the parabolic microphone, shove them into a black duffel bag, and leave the rest in the trunk. It’s going to be hard enough carrying all this around the docks without drawing suspicion. Hauling in a tripod under my arm would only paint a red target on my back.

From the few dockworkers I interviewed, I know that the meetings always take place behind a warehouse on the southernmost tip of the docks. After poring over satellite imaging of the area, I’ve determined that the best place for me to hide is atop one of the stacked shipping containers that border the area on the north side. Now it’s just a matter of getting up there with my equipment without being seen, and managing to spy on the meeting—also without being seen.

I shudder to think what Gabriel would do if he saw me perched on top of one of the steel containers, holding a listening device in one hand and a camera in the other. I don’t think he would hurt me, but even without laying a finger on my person, there are any number of unpleasant futures that could await me if I am caught red-handed trying to expose his criminal enterprises.

Simple then. I just won’t get caught.

I pick my way through the docks, using cranes, warehouses, and shipping containers to take cover behind as needed. The air is muggy and warm, with bloated gray clouds hanging uncomfortably low overhead. I start to sweat before I have even reached my intended hiding spot.

When I get to the designated pyramid of containers, I check my location on the map and then stow my phone in the duffel bag and walk around behind it. Hanging over the side of a container with peeling yellow paint is a rope, with several knots tied into it. I stare at the rope, grimacing, and wonder why Debbie couldn’t have set up a rope ladder here instead. The last time I climbed a rope was in high school, and I’m not convinced I can still do it.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, tying the duffel bag to the bottom of the rope, then jumping up to catch one of the knots.

I swing against the side of the container, my feet scrambling for purchase on the smooth metal. My flat rubber soles slide against the smooth metal and I curse myself for not thinking to bring shoes that would help the climb. I’m surprised Debbie didn’t include some in her super-spy care package.

I reach for the next knot, then the next, working my way up the rope. All of the time spent working out in Gabriel’s private gym has clearly paid off, though by the time I reach the top my arms are in agony. I squirm over the edge after what feels like decades and collapse onto the warm metal, out of breath. When I can lift my arm again, I wipe the sticky perspiration from my forehead.

After that, it’s a simple matter of pulling the duffel bag up to join me and setting up shop in the shadow of the topmost container where I—hopefully—will not be seen.

I check the time and my heart skips a beat. They should be here any second. I scan my surroundings, noting the silent container ship docked ahead of me, which I presume is loaded with a ticking time bomb of purple heroin waiting to ravage the city. It is half hidden by a crane, standing tall and alert, ready to unload the calamity at the snap of its master’s fingers. I take a few photos of the ship and wait.

A black Escalade pulls up in front of the ship, and I zoom in on the doors as men start to emerge. Gabriel unfolds from the passenger seat and a lump forms in my throat.

I knew he would be here, but somehow seeing him shocks me nonetheless. Like I’d been hoping that I’d misunderstood the note in his calendar and after all this preparation and espionage I’d spend the afternoon baking on the top of a shipping container like an idiot while he had a boring meeting