“You can turn around now,” Chloe said.
He did and drank in the sight that met him. Her form-fitting black clothing accentuated her smooth skin and highlighted her trim, toned body. Even with her hair pulled into a tight braid she looked sexy as hell. Guilt snaked in. He had no right to risk her life this way. As twilight settled around them, he suddenly realized he wanted her gone. Wanted her well away from the danger they were walking into.
“It’s not too late, Chloe,” Finn said. “You and Jonathan can fly home and leave this part to me.”
Her jaw hardened in that determined way he was beginning to recognize. She wasn’t going to take the easy route.
“I told you from the beginning I’m not backing down, and I haven’t changed my mind.” She stuffed her tourist clothes into a bag as she spoke. “Quit stalling and get dressed. We’ve got ground to cover.”
Jonathan laughed as he switched his island print button-down for a solid black T-shirt. “I swear, you and your mother are cut from the same cloth. She never walked away from a challenge either.”
“This will be dangerous,” Finn kept trying. “The pirates will fight back.”
“We know that,” Chloe said as she gathered her uncle’s discarded clothing. “But you aren’t the only one with something at stake here.”
“Or a score to settle,” Jonathan added.
Finn accepted defeat. They were an army of three. And he had no real plan other than get there, survey the scene, figure out how to access the yacht, and sail away. The words reckless and idiotic bounced around in his head. The problem of protecting Chloe worried him. But they were going for it, and it was time to act.
“This operation will have to move fast.” Finn began arming himself with the new weapons. “No second thoughts, no hesitation. It can get you killed. Stay alert and stay low. Bullets will be flying. Understand?” He shot an apprehensive look straight at Chloe when he said it, and she frowned.
“You do your job and I’ll do mine,” she said matter-of-factly. “Keep your focus. I got this.”
Her words did nothing to reassure him. This wasn’t a situation he could control. But then she stepped closer, reached up, and pressed her palm to his cheek.
“Stay safe,” she whispered. “I want you to come out of this alive, too.”
The possibility behind those words intrigued him, and the warmth in her eyes made his gut tighten. Why would she say that? Just when he thought he might have a part of her figured out, she throws him for a loop with words that smacked of care and concern. What was she doing?
Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded at her, and she moved away to the picnic table to finish packing.
Finn shifted focus to Jonathan. “When we get to the ship, head straight for the bridge. We have to get her moving ASAP. You’re sure you can navigate the maze of waterways?”
“Absolutely,” Jonathan replied with conviction. “I paid attention on the way in. If we can get to my ship, I can steer her to freedom.”
“The ammunitions locker is fully stocked?”
“As long as the damn pirates haven’t raided it,” Jonathan confirmed again.
Finn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hoped Lady Luck was in a good mood. They were going to need her.
“Surprise is our only advantage,” Finn wrapped up with the warning. “We need to keep it as long as we can. We’ve a two-mile hike along an inlet, and we need to travel in silence. We don’t know if they have guards along the path.”
Chloe and Jonathan nodded in agreement as they slipped their backpacks on over their shoulders.
“Okay then,” Finn said. “Let’s get moving.”
* * * *
From the protection of the woods, Finn stared at the compound through a small pair of binoculars. Boca Chica’s pirates only made a half-hearted effort to give their boat repair business the air of legitimacy. There were a few old boats scattered about a large clearing, but they hadn’t seen water in many a year. There was also a mega-sized metal warehouse that sat next to the water, three smaller outbuildings, and something that might be an office. At one time, it might have been a viable boat shop, but neglect had left all but the main building in a bad state of repair.
There were four, no five, vehicles parked on the grounds and a scattering of meager yard lights. Employees, if you could call them that, looked more like battle-hardened men, seasoned pirates, certainly not the kind to tolerate a raid on their turf without retaliation. Finn tried to get a headcount, but it was too hard from this angle. They needed to move to the opposite side to get a better view of the grounds and activity at the dock.
He signaled to Chloe and Jonathan, and the three of them melted back into the trees. After rounding to a better vantage point, they crept as close as possible to the forest edge and Finn began surveillance again.
The water was more visible from this angle, and Finn scanned the long expanse of pier. Low-voltage lights were on each pylon, and though half of them weren’t working, it was enough to mark the outline. Several boats were moored, everything from small chaser skiffs to speedboats to large cabin cruisers. To the right of the pier sat another much shorter dock that led right to a shoreline warehouse with massive doors open to a dry dock lift. NorthStar had a similar set up.
A pirate jumped into a Sea Ray sport cruiser, a thirty-five to thirty-eight footer from the look of it, tossed the mooring lines, and pushed it away from the dock before firing up the engine. He floated at a crawl to a metal platform where two scrawny men worked to cinch it into a cradle and engage a hydraulic lift. The cruiser cleared the water and began its slow journey through the doors and into dry dock hell.
Light poured from the warehouse windows, and Finn could make out the framework where the boat would rest during its makeover. It took no time at all to strip a vessel of its identity. A new name, new paint, the heavy use of a grinder to file down the hull identification number, and the boat was ready for a wide-open black market. There were plenty of overseas oil barons who’d gladly dish out half the ship’s value in cash, no questions asked.
A tap on his shoulder interrupted his study of the business.
“Emerald Fire,” Chloe whispered and pointed out the obvious. The Fire was the only mega-yacht anchored at the pier and far too big for the dry dock system used here. Whatever transformation she’d get, it would be done while she floated. It was a safe bet she far exceeded the norm for this band of thieves. Which meant the gang wouldn’t take kindly to their prize being stolen.
Finn scanned the activity through his lens. Once they breached the pier, the Fire would be easy to board. The trick would be getting to it undetected. He roamed his sights over to the men who concentrated on getting the cruiser inside. He’d counted four, but knew there had to be more in the warehouse and likely another one or two elsewhere on the grounds. They were way outnumbered. If they were going to make it to the yacht, they needed a diversion. One that included a lot of noise and chaos to drown out the sound of her engines firing.
He examined the grounds with the binoculars again and landed on a wooden building just across the compound. Surrounded by piles of used equipment, oil drums, and shipyard junk, it would have been unremarkable except for the sight of six or seven gas cans.
He signaled Jonathan and Chloe, and they pulled back into the darkened forest.
“We need to improve our odds,” Finn stated quietly. “There’s only three of us and too many of them. So here’s the plan—I think there’s enough fuel storage to