Anchor

Chapter 5

Gabriel

She looks right at me.

With my boat lights extinguished and my wetsuit and gear dark blue or black, she can't see me. If she could, then he could, and then all hell will break loose.

But I see her.

I should look for entry points and weaknesses in his defense, but I can't tear my eyes away from the silvery trail of tears down her cheeks. Her black hair is windswept and pulled back from her face into a hasty bun. Pieces of it are falling down around her bare shoulders. She seems far too delicate to have a man with a gun standing behind her.

A pool of shadows obscure his face and getting in any closer to make out any detail will blow my cover. So I sit, and I wait for my opening. The last thing the people on the ferry need is for me to go charging in without gathering information first. Though with her innocent face and gut wrenching tears as a beacon in the darkness, I'm sure as hell tempted to charge in guns blazing.

I put in my ear piece and tune the channel so I can listen in to the emergency response teams relaying information to each other. I gather from their relentless squawking there's been no contact from the ferry.

Which isn't a good sign. If he isn't making any demands, then he could just be in it for the grand finale.

And if that's the case then I'll get to him before he sets it in motion.

Getting on the boat undetected will require a little bit of finesse, but I'm well used to operating in the water. I've been on or around the water in some aspect my whole life.

The adrenaline surging through my system when I saw the police waiting at the ferry entrance faded by the time I was leaving the hospital after I spoke with Emily and Taylor. A steady calm replaced it once I gathered my familiar gear, checking and double checking my supplies.

Now, I'm settled into the familiar place that allows me to prioritize tasks and mete out justice on my own terms. It doesn't even occur to me to consider I don't have orders for this particular mission, and I'm pretty sure the proper authorities will be incensed when they find me onboard the ferry after they specifically told me to leave it alone.

I pop in a piece of spearmint gum as I bob on the water about a hundred yards to the northeast of their position. The tail end of conversations and screaming and crying reach me. The offender is on the top deck speaking to the pretty woman with the black hair.

Their body language tells me she's afraid of him, but not so much that she lets him intimidate her into cowering away. She's a fighter, this one. The thought makes me grin a little around my piece of gum. Emily would like her, if they met under different circumstances. Taylor, too, probably. Lord knows the two of them give me enough trouble.

I'll owe her a beer, hell, maybe even my grandma's secret recipe for lasagna, when all this is over. Emily had made me promise to bring her rescuer over to see her.

Now how will I go about doing that?

My best bet will be the waist high rail located at the back of the boat. At the opportune moment, I can snake along the back and hide in between the cars for cover until I figure out my next move.

I can't weigh anchor this close to the ferry. Otherwise, he may see and suspect something. I don't need him knocking off hostages because of a stupid mistake, so I guide my boat a way out, until I'm sure it's cloaked in shadows. Unfortunately, this means the swim from my location to the boat will be one hell of a workout, even with my handheld propulsion device.