Michael Connelly - 9 Dragons

He checked his watch. It was almost six. It would be at least two hours before total darkness. They could wait and then make a move. But two hours could be too long. The text messages had put his daughter’s abductors on notice. They could be about to make some sort of move with her.

As if to drive this possibility home, the deep throb of a marine engine suddenly sounded from the wharf. Bosch stole a glimpse around the corner and saw exhaust rising from the stern of the crane boat. And now he saw movement behind the windows of the pilothouse.

He ducked back.

“Maybe he saw us,” he reported. “They started the boat.”

“How many did you see?” Sun asked.

“At least one inside the pilothouse and one still up on the crane. We need to do something. Now.”

To accent the need to move, he reached behind his back and pulled the gun. He was tempted to move around the corner and go down the wharf shooting. He had a fully loaded.45 and liked his chances. He’d seen worse in the tunnels. Eight bullets, eight dragons. And then there would be him. Bosch would be the ninth dragon, as unstoppable as a bullet.

“What’s the plan/” Sun asked.

“No plan. I go in and I get her. If I don’t make it, I’ll make sure none of them do either. Then you go in and get her and put her on a plane out of here. You’ve got her passport in your trunk. That’s the plan.”

Sun shook his head.

“Wait. They will be armed. This plan is not good.”

“You got a better idea? We can’t wait for dark. That boat’s about to go.”

Bosch moved to the edge and took another look. Nothing had changed. The lookout was still up in the booth and there was somebody in the pilothouse. The boat was rumbling on idle but still tied to the end of the pier. It was almost as if they were waiting for something. Or someone.

Bosch ducked back and calmed himself. He considered everything around him and what was available to use. Maybe there was something other than a suicide run at this. He looked at Sun.

“We need a boat.”

“A boat?”

“A small boat. We can’t go down the pier without being seen. They’ll be watching for it. But with a small boat we could create a distraction on the other side. Enough for somebody to go down the pier.”

Sun moved past Bosch and looked around the corner. He surveyed the end of the pier and then ducked back.

“Yes, a boat could work. You want me to get the boat?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the gun and I’m going down the pier to get my daughter.”

Sun nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the car keys.

“Take the keys. When you have your daughter, you drive away. Don’t worry about me.”

Bosch shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“We’ll get someplace nearby but safe and then I’ll call you. We’ll wait for you.”

Sun nodded.

“Good luck, Harry.”

He turned to go.

“And good luck to you,” Bosch said.

After Sun left, Bosch kept his back against the front wall of the warehouse and prepared to wait. He had no idea how Sun would commandeer a boat but he trusted that somehow he’d get his part done and then would create the distraction that allowed Bosch to make his move.

He also thought about finally making the call to the Hong Kong police, now that he had located his daughter, but he quickly discarded that idea as well. Police swarming the pier was no guarantee of his daughter’s safety. He’d stick with the plan.

He turned to look around the corner of the warehouse and make another check of activities on the Northstar boat, when he saw a car approaching from the south. He noted the familiar styling of the front grille of a Mercedes. The car was white.

Bosch slid down the wall to make himself less noticeable. Nets that had been hung to dry from the rigging of two boats between him and the approaching car also gave him camouflage. He watched as the car slowed and turned onto wharf 7 and then headed down the pier toward the crane boat. It was the car they had followed from the Gold Coast. He caught a glimpse of the driver and identified him as the same man who had returned his look earlier.

Bosch did some quick computing and concluded that the man behind the wheel was the man whose phone number had been placed by Peng in the contact list on his daughter’s phone. He had sent the woman and child-probably his wife and son-inside Geo as decoys that would help him identify the person who had been texting him. Spooked by the last message sent by Sun, he had driven them home or to some other safe spot, dropped them and then driven to wharf 7, where Bosch’s daughter was being held.

It was a lot to string together, considering the few known facts he had, but Bosch believed he was on target and that something was about to happen that wasn’t part of the Mercedes man’s original plan. He was deviating. Hurrying things up or moving the merchandise or doing something worse-getting rid of the merchandise.

The Mercedes stopped in front of the crane boat. The driver jumped out and quickly moved across a gangway onto the boat. He yelled something to the man up in the booth but did not break stride as he quickly headed to the pilothouse.

For a moment, there was no further movement. Then Bosch saw the man step out of the crane booth and start climbing down from the platform. After reaching the deck, he followed the Mercedes man into the pilothouse.

Bosch knew that they had just committed a strategic error that gave him a momentary advantage. This was his chance to move down the pier unseen. He pulled his phone again and called Sun. The phone rang and then went to message.

“Sun, where are you? The Mercedes man is here and they left the boat unguarded. Never mind the distraction, just get back here and be ready to drive. I’m going in.”

Bosch pocketed the phone and stood up. He checked the crane boat one last time and then bolted from cover. He crossed the wharf to the pier and began moving toward the end. He held the gun in a two-handed grip, up and ready.

Stacks of empty crates on the pier afforded Bosch partial cover but the last twenty yards to the gangway of the crane boat were wide open and exposed. He picked up his speed and quickly covered the distance, ducking at the last moment behind the Mercedes idling next to the gangway. Bosch noted the distinctive sound and smell of the diesel engine. He peeked over the line of the trunk and saw no reaction to his moves coming from the boat. He jumped from cover, moved quickly and quietly across the gangway and then picked his way between six-foot-wide hatch covers on the deck. He finally slowed his pace as he reached the pilothouse. He pressed himself against the wall next to the door.

Harry slowed his breathing and listened. He heard nothing over the sound of the throbbing engines other than the wind through the rigging of the boats on the pier. He turned to look in through a small square window in the door. He saw no one inside. He reached to the handle and quietly opened the door and entered.

The room was the operation center of the boat. Besides the wheel, Bosch saw glowing dials, double radar screens, twin throttles and a large gimballed compass. Against the back wall of the room was a chart table next to a set of built-in bunks with curtains that could be pulled for privacy.

On the floor on the forward left was an open hatch with a ladder leading down into the hull. Bosch moved over and crouched next to the opening. He heard voices down below but the language spoken was Chinese. He tried to separate them and count how many men were down there but the echo effect of the hull made this impossible. He knew at a minimum there were three men in the hull. He did not hear his daughter’s voice, but he knew she was down there, too.