Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,135

that interesting…? Brimley Scott had taken extra special care securing the yacht of a guy he’d barely known, had in fact, just met.

Walker ran a hand over his aching head. The flight from Ireland to Lisbon had done him in. Then the drive here. Now Brim’s unexpected foresight and kindness. Possibly more secrets...

He was trapped in an upside-down world, where everyone he’d met lately was on his side. After a year on the run, that kind of loyalty made him antsy. He honestly still wasn’t sure if he could trust everyone or what to expect from any of them. So Walker let Brim’s comment slide.

Persia rolled her window down and presented the ticket to the sunburned, smiling guard at the marina’s gatehouse. “The car behind is with us,” she told him politely.

The friendly gentleman leaned out of his guard-shack window to peer into the van, then grinned when he spotted Brimley and Rover. The two exchanged pleasantries, and once again, Walker looked over his shoulder. Brim knew Portuguese? Rover barked, as if even he knew this guy.

The guard reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a dog treat. Still grinning, he tossed the treat to Rover, then activated the metal gate and waved Persia through and for Stewart to follow.

She turned the corner at the end of a row of small storage units. Then Walker caught sight of the shipyard. Damn. Persia Smiles wasn’t just docked. She’d been professionally stored, and that hoist Brimley mentioned was a massive floating crane that could probably lift three to four thousand tons.

“How big is that boat you stole?” Ryder asked.

“Forty-five-feet long.”

“Is that crane going to be big enough?”

“Oh, yeah.” And then some.

Brim and Rover hit the pavement before the vehicle stopped rolling. Brim strolled over to the hundred-foot high double doors, marked by a tiny metal sign with 18B printed on it, and punched a code into the keypad. The large metal door rolled upward, and there she was. Persia Smiles. In all her magnificent dry-docked glory.

Stewart’s van had pulled alongside by then. “Everyone out,” he ordered while Walker stared up at the tremendous size of his—boat. She was a monster on dry land, a sleek, beautiful lady monster. Man, her keel alone lifted her a good ten feet from the concrete floor.

Persia was standing aft, looking up at the lettering above the landing deck, now high over her head. “Persia Smiles,” she murmured.

“You were always with me,” Walker admitted easily. “Even when I left you behind.”

Walking over to him, she linked her arm through his. “You only left because you were a hunted man.”

His heart swelled at her easy forgiveness. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into her palm. “You never cease to amaze me.”

The light in her smile outdid the sun. “Then let’s get this gal back in the water, sailor.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Whew! Getting Persia Smiles into the river was no small chore. Maneuvering her out of the storage building to the crane took the rest of the day. By the time the sun set, Persia was ready to leave Portugal behind. Walker’s beautiful yacht bobbed placidly alongside the dock. He was antsy, ready to cast off.

Once aboard, he ran to the cockpit first, then returned to the aft deck with a screwdriver. Brim had called out to him then, “I moved it!”

Walker stopped in his tracks and cast a terse, “Where?”

“Sumbitch, can’t an old man get aboard before you start bellowing?” Brim grumbled as he maneuvered across the gangplank, with Rover straining at the end of his leash.

Whatever evidence Walker had, it made him uncharacteristically tense. “Where’d you put it?” he asked the minute Brim’s feet hit the deck. “Is it safe? Did you look at it?”

Brim cupped Walker’s shoulder. “No, son, I didn’t open or look at whatever you’re hiding, but I wasn’t sure it’d be safe where you’d left it. Those pirates boarded us so fast, we didn’t get much time but putting it back where we found it, remember? Come on, son. I hid your bag, too. Let’s go get your stuff.”

While Walker went below deck with Brim, Persia helped Alex and Senator Sullivan transfer supplies to the galley. A few moments later, Walker was back up top, untying ropes from the dock and casting off.

He’d changed into khaki cargo shorts, an ordinary gray t-shirt, and boat shoes. Persia watched him turn from a hunted criminal to the captain of this yacht. The prestigious title fit. If she didn’t