"He's careful and smart." She gestured at the organized workspace. "All of this was set up for you to discover."
Gabe picked up David's notes with hands that shook slightly. Boat names filled the margins. Dates and tide scheduleswere cross-referenced in different colored ink. Route maps showed patterns marked in red.
Everything pointed to systematic smuggling operations, and everything was worth killing to keep secret.
Cara found a burned manifest scrap wedged under the edge of the crate. One corner had survived whatever fire had consumed the rest. Shipping codes were still visible. Port numbers. Just enough information to potentially trace back to source.
"Bag everything," Gabe said, his voice steadying as agent mode reasserted control over terrified brother. "We'll analyze it all back at?—"
Sounds outside.
They shared a look. “Security?”she asked.
Instead of responding,Gabe pulled her back into the shadows. “Stay down and stay quiet.”
25
Engines cutthrough the silence outside. Multiple vehicles approaching fast. And no sirens. Not legit security, then. This was more like an army.
Cara's body flooded with adrenaline and training took over before she could stop the response. She assessed exits automatically, counted distinct engine sounds, calculated response time based on approach speed.
Doors slammed in rapid succession. Voices carried through the fog. Men. Several of them. Moving with purpose.
"We need to move right now." Gabe grabbed the burner phone and David's notes, stuffing them into his jacket pockets.
Flashlight beams swept across the windows. The side door they'd entered through was exposed now, with vehicles positioned between them and that exit route.
Gabe tapped her on the shoulder. "Loading dock. There's rear access through the bay doors. Go."
They ran through the darkness with footsteps that were too loud in the enclosed space.
Behind them, the door crashed open violently. Heavyboots hit concrete. Flashlights swept through the interior in systematic search patterns.
“Lock was jimmied. Check everything. Someone's been here."
Gabe urged her toward a shipping container. They ducked behind it, pressing themselves against cold metal. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She box breathed, trying to stay above the rising tide of adrenaline surging through her. When cons went wrong, she needed every tiny trick in her arsenal to keep her head together.
As voices echoed through the huge space, they slipped between containers. Shadow to shadow. Her body knew how to do this, how to stay silent while moving fast, how to navigate hostile territory in darkness.
She vaulted a low barrier, landing softly on the balls of her feet with knees bent to absorb impact.
Behind them, flashlight beams swept closer. "Split up,” a deep voice ordered. “You two take the east side. We'll clear west to the loading dock."
Cara grabbed Gabe's arm and pulled him deeper into the maze of containers. They moved fast through narrow gaps between stacked crates. Metal scraped against her jacket. Her breath came controlled despite the sprint.
A flashlight beam swept past their position, missing them by inches.
"Over there! Movement!"
Footsteps pounded closer. Heavy boots on concrete. At least two men converging on their location.
Cara spotted a gap between containers barely wide enough to squeeze through. She pushed Gabe toward it and followed, turning sideways to fit through the eighteen-inch space. The metal pressed against her chest and back as she moved through.
They emerged on the far side just as flashlights illuminated where they'd been standing seconds before.
"Lost them. Check behind the containers."
Cara started to move but Gabe held up his hand, listening. She heard it, too. Two men to their left. One circling around from the right. Another pair somewhere near the main entrance cutting off that exit route.
