listening behind him. Suleiman kept his face blank, out of deference for Yusuf as leader. Both knew the American had just spoken everything on Suleiman’s mind.
Yusuf lapped a hand behind his kinsman’s neck. He squeezed in fondness and loyalty. His cousin would share whatever fate was his; that was their long-standing pact.
Yusuf raised his hand high into the spotlight. At the signal, the beam swept away, plunging the platform and raft into darkness. The light leaped up the Valnea’s tall hull, to the hostages gathered along the starboard rail.
Guleed’s single gunshot clapped loud enough to be heard at the bottom of the gangway. One hostage went limp; arms and shoulders flopped overboard until the legs were lifted from behind, dumping the black-clad body into the air. The searchlight followed the long, awkward somersault into the water.
The corpse splashed into the wake, then bobbed to the surface facedown. This was the large guard, the one wounded during the taking of the ship. The searchlight stayed on the body surging past the platform, beneath Yusuf’s bare feet, under the gaze of the warship captain. The body drifted quickly behind in pinkening foam, swallowed into the indifferent gulf.
Yusuf spoke to the side of the captain’s head. “The man was an armed guard. He shot one of my clansmen.”
Goldberg pivoted slowly to glare at Yusuf. He barely hid his anger.
“When your phone rings again, Captain, tell them if anyone attacks this ship, I will kill every hostage. You asked for the guarantee of Yusuf Raage. Tell them you have it.”
Suleiman did not lift his hand from his weapon until the American had stepped into the raft, slipped the lines, and motored away with the wounded. The spotlight tracked the boat deep into the night, until it became small and the beam blinked off.
Chapter 16
Through the honeycomb of steel, beneath the moan of the freighter’s engines, LB crept forward. He hid behind pillars, pausing, edging forward toward the source of the light. The glow did not waver, and the shadows it cast didn’t shift.
When he rounded the last corner into the cargo bay, he saw the source. A flashlight lay abandoned on the deck.
Instinctively, LB raised Bojan’s Zastava. He advanced slowly into the rim of light.
The spilled beam played across one more railcar standing alone, its large rectangular face wrapped like the others in a tarp. LB swept the Serb’s gun in a circle, scanning the blackness. He backed toward the railcar.
“Stop right there.” The voice bounced around the hard cargo bay, sounding as if it came from several mouths. LB quit backpedaling. “I’ve got a gun pointed at your head. Drop the rifle.”
He did not comply.
“Iris, it’s me. LB.” His own voice flew into the gloom, rattling in the dark.
“LB? What are you doing here?”
“I figure to ask you the same question. Come on out.”
Echoed footsteps preceded Iris. She emerged in her khakis and linen blouse. She carried no gun.
Iris Cherlina walked fast right at him. LB lowered the Zastava so she could walk into his arms.
“I’m so scared,” she whispered.
He wasn’t sure of the right pressure to put around her waist. She was a beautiful liar, and involved in something sneaky and international, way past his pay grade. He squeezed once, said, “Yeah,” then let her go. Iris backed off when he did.
“I’ll go first,” he said, “since I’m the one who really has a gun. What are you doing down here? What’s going on?”
Iris Cherlina picked up the flashlight she’d laid on the deck. She turned the light away from his eyes. “I went to my cabin to rest for dinner, like I said. But I was curious about that ship you and I saw off the bow at sunset. So I walked forward. I looked over the side and saw the pirates. It was incredible. Frightening. When I heard the alarm, I climbed down here to hide. I was lucky.”
“Why didn’t you tell somebody?”
She blinked at him, indulgent. “That defeats the purpose of hiding.”
“Where’d you get a master key?”
Around Iris, the engine hummed while, high above, pirates swarmed the ship.
“LB. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Too late.” He dropped the question to point at the mystery railcar behind her. “That’s yours, isn’t it? And all that back there. The drones, the radar.”
Iris didn’t nod, nor did she need to for him to know he was right.
She covered her mouth. “Is that blood on your shoulders?”
“Bojan’s been shot. I had to carry him.”
Iris spoke behind her fingers. “Oh my God. Are we