Ghost Ship (NUMA Files 12) - Page 80

Kurt stepped back and held up two fingers. Joe nodded. Kurt pointed to their feet. “Shoes,” he whispered.

Joe pulled his shoes off as Kurt was doing the same. “At this rate, I’m gonna be naked by the time we catch up to her.”

“That ought to scare her,” Kurt replied. “Not to mention everyone else involved.”

Leaving their shoes behind, they began to descend in their socks, treading lightly but quickly, and staying away from the inside rail, where a quick look upward from either of the targets might give them away.

They were passing the sixth floor and headed for the fifth when the woman and her friend reached the bottom floor. The door at the base of the stairwell opened, and they could hear the unmistakable sound of a gun with a silencer on the barrel. Three dartlike shots were followed by a dull thud, and then another.

“They’ve taken someone out,” Joe whispered.

Kurt stooped and peered over the edge. What looked like a pair of guards was being dragged into the stairwell. Calista and the man took several items from the bodies, covered them hastily with a tarp, and then went out through the door into the garage once again.

“What are they up to?” Joe wondered aloud.

Kurt had no idea. When the door banged shut, he started to move again, racing down the stairs as fast as he could. He made it to the bottom of the stairwell and pressed against the door, looking through the wire safety glass window. He saw the woman clearly now. Her hair was short and black again, and she was dressed in a uniform like one of Than Rang’s guards.

“She’s climbing into the cab of an eighteen-wheeler,” Kurt said.

“What about her friend?”

Kurt glanced around. He couldn’t see the man, but the sound of a door slamming and a slight vibration in the mirror of a second truck suggested he’d gotten in the second rig. For now, they just sat there waiting.

“What’s the story on those guys?” Kurt asked, glancing back to Joe.

As Kurt watched the trucks, Joe moved back into the recesses of the stairwell where the dead men were covered by the tarp. “Ammunition belts and empty holsters,” Joe said. “Radio clips on their belts are empty. I’d guess these men are security specialists, not drivers.”

“Makes sense,” Kurt said. “Some

body has to ride shotgun on an operation like this. By the looks of it, our two friends have split up, taking the place of these two. They’re each in a different truck.”

“Guarding the cargo and waiting for the drivers to arrive,” Joe suggested.

“That’s my guess.”

“So now what?”

“Stowaway time,” Kurt said. “We get on board, they load up the other hackers and hopefully take us right to Sienna.”

“What if Sienna is being held in Kim Jong-un’s palace?” Joe said.

“Then we get a tour of North Korea,” Kurt said.

“Not sure I like that idea,” Joe said. “They don’t have a lot of Mexican food up there, you know. Or much food in general, for that matter.”

Kurt didn’t exactly like the idea of ending up in the Hermit Kingdom himself. But he didn’t think they were going there. “From what Colonel Lee said, the border is closed. Even if it were open, there’s no way these guys are driving across the DMZ in a pair of big rigs with the DaeShan logo splashed all over them.”

“That makes sense,” Joe said. “I’d still rather call in the cavalry.”

“We stop these guys on this side of the border, we’ll never find Sienna,” Kurt said. “I didn’t come this far to show my hand before the final deal. But if you want to stay here, I understand.”

Joe shook his head, and with a grunt pulled off the goatee, completing his transformation from Solano back to Zavala. “And go back to the party upstairs? I don’t think so. But if we’re not going into the so-called Democratic Republic of North Korea, then where are we going?”

“Colonel Lee said the cyberattacks weren’t directly traceable to North Korea, even though they’re fairly certain North Korea was behind them. He said this Unit 121 had people working all over the world: in China, Japan, hidden here in Seoul. If that’s the case, then we might not even leave the city.”

Joe broke into a grin. “I like the way you think,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll turn out to be wrong as usual, but there’s something to be said for remaining positive until all hope is actually lost.”

Kurt glanced back at the dead men, blood already oozing out from under the bodies. “That tarp won’t hide them for long,” he said, “which means our friends can’t play impostor for any extended length of time. Whatever they’re going to do, it’s going to happen quick.”

Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller
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