Except the flame looked too large and wild for a lantern. Could it be a torch? Yuri’s heart thudded against his chest.
The three figuresjoined together underneath the post holding up one corner of the dry-dock roof, and suddenly, the one flame turned into three.
“Fire!” The word left Yuri’s mouth like a gunshot. “They’ve got torches, and there’s three of them!”
Mikhail bolted for the stairs.
“Let’s split up and see if we can stop them before they burn anything.” Alexei followed Mikhail to the stairs.
“I’ll take the one by the dry dock,” Mikhail called from the stairway.
“I’ll circle around the back of the dry dock and make sure no one burns the lumber.” Yuri raced after his brothers.
“I’ll start the sea pump and grab the hoses.” Sacha thundered down the stairs behind them. “Just in case they manage to light something.”
“Am I the only one that’s armed?” Jonas called over the noise of their racing footsteps.
There was no time to answer. Mikhail opened the door, and they burst outside, scattering. A shipyard didn’t run without its own emergency system. Years ago, they’d installed a manual water pump and hose system that drew seawater directly from the harbor, more to clean bilges and hulls than fight fires, but it worked for both.
Yuri raced across the muddy ground, veering behind the dry dock until he spotted a figure heading toward the lean-to where they stored dry lumber for their ships.
Yuri lengthened his stride, trying to keep his steps as light as possible so the arsonist didn’t realize he was there. He closed the gap until only twenty feet separated them, then ten, then five.
He must have made some kind of noise, because the man turned.
“Drop it!” Yuri growled.
The arsonist whirled back around and ran faster.
Yuri surged forward and tackled him before he could reach the lean-to. They crashed to the ground, the torch skittering into a patch of mud, where it flickered and died. A punch landed against Yuri’s jaw, but he swung his fist right back, using twice the force of his assailant. The man grunted but twisted beneath him and caught Yuri in the ribs with his elbow. Yuri shifted and drove his knee into the man’s side. Another punch flew toward his temple, but this time he saw it coming and ducked, then swung his own fist toward the man’s face. It met his cheekbone with a satisfying crack, and the man grunted.
The fight left him for a fraction of a second, but that was all Yuri needed to pin the man’s wrists above his head.
He thrashed and tried to twist free.
“I don’t think so,” Yuri muttered, tightening his grip and pressing his weight downward until the struggling slowed. “One down!” he shouted to his brothers.
“The other two are running!” Mikhail’s voice rang out from the opposite side of the dry dock.
Yuri glimpsed two shadowy figures vaulting the fence next to the lean-to. Alexei and Mikhail raced to the fence, but the arsonists had been too far ahead.
“You got one?” Jonas sprinted toward Yuri, his pistol drawn.
“Yeah.” Yuri stayed on top of the assailant until Jonas arrived and trained his pistol on the man. “The others hopped the fence just over there.” He nodded toward the spot.
Both Alexei and Mikhail were heading his direction.
Alexei reached them first, his eyes still surveying the fence. “I’m tempted to try chasing them even though we don’t know which direction they went.”
“Do you want me to?” Mikhail heaved out a breath, his chest rising and falling from whatever chase he’d given to the other men.
“No,” Jonas said. “We don’t know anything about them. They could be armed.”
Sacha arrived with a length of hose slung over his shoulder. “Pump’s running, just in case we need it.”
Alexei wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “At least we stopped them before they could light anything.”
Yuri pushed himself to a standing position, giving Jonas a chance to handcuff the arsonist and ask his name.
