about to commit, she reluctantly agreed.
Liliana called Tomasz and wished him good night and, at the boy’s request, so did Jack. “Mommy will be home tomorrow, sweetheart,” she said. She struggled to hang up, but finally did when her mother said good night and whisked Tomasz away for his bath.
The two of them set their alarms for midnight and grabbed some fitful shut-eye in their separate beds, giving themselves some rest and the warehouse district time to empty out.
* * *
—
Gdańsk was a very safe city, particularly in this part of town, even at this late hour. Rather than walk back to the car, drive it, and park it at a safe distance, it was easier and even faster to just make the brisk twenty-two-minute walk from their hotel to the port facilities and the Baltic General Services warehouse.
The port itself was mostly shut down from its hectic daytime activities of shipbuilding and repair, but a number of ships tied up at pier were well lit, and a few still loading or unloading.
The line of workshops along the narrow street where Gage’s warehouse was located was dark and quiet, and the street itself poorly lit, but a half-moon shone enough to keep them from stumbling over their own feet. A cloudless sky chilled the air, but at least it was dry. The weather app on Jack’s phone promised rain later, but for now they were fine.
They stayed in the shadows wherever possible. Jack didn’t see any surveillance cameras, and the one police vehicle that passed through did so at a speed as if taking a shortcut rather than actually patrolling.
They took a position behind a long blue dumpster across the street opposite the giant green doors of the BGS warehouse, now shut tight. The lights inside were off and there wasn’t any noise coming from within. The truck that had honked them out of the way was nowhere to be seen, nor were any others.
Jack inserted his wireless earbuds and put his phone on silent mode. “Call me if anyone shows up. Otherwise, I won’t be long, twenty minutes at most, once I get inside.”
“I’m still not crazy about this.”
“The sooner I leave, the sooner I get back.”
“Promise me you won’t attempt to get on board that ship.”
Jack held up two closed fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
A flickering sodium lamp high up on the weathered brick building behind them strobed her worried face in a ghostly yellow cast.
“Please be careful, Jack.”
“Always.”
Triple-checking that no one was in sight, Jack dashed from behind the dumpster and over to the corner of the warehouse building. In the dim light he saw that the green doors were padlocked shut. He had lockpicks—a lesson learned after Singapore—but the size and weight of just one of those doors was problematic and would make a helluva racket when opened. If locked, they were probably also alarmed.
He tried the small entrance door to his left. The door handle was locked, and the door itself was also padlocked shut with a heavy-duty hasp.
Crap.
He glanced up. One of the twelve cantilevered glass windows thirty feet above his head was open, but all of them, including the open one, were iron-barred against thieves. Even if he could find a ladder or some other means to scale the wall, he wouldn’t be able to get in. Worst-case scenario, he could set a camera in the window—but again, only if he could reach it. On the other hand, whoever had opened it in the first place might decide to close it tomorrow and find the camera, so that wasn’t a good option.
His last shot lay on the other side of the warehouse, facing the water. Jack made his way through the low, leafy branches of a fallen tree wedged against the building, then picked his way through the rest of the vacant lot strewn with old pipes, fittings, scaffolding, and bricks.
Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, he finally reached the rear of the building, his back pressed against the brick. He listened for a moment. The cold river water chucked against the steel hull of the ship he’d seen earlier. The acrid tang of cigarette smoke bit his nose, but he didn’t hear any footsteps or voices.
He crouched low and ducked his head around the corner. The stern of the ship was twenty feet away, and at least that high in the air. BALTIC PRINCESS and ST. PETERSBURG were painted on the hull. A mast light shone overhead, and a dim lamp glowed