Sandra K. Moore - Without A Trace

A click and overhead fluorescents glared. Nikki’s assailant lay cowering beneath the pistol’s muzzle, hands spread wide. The dull gray coveralls spattered with grease said he worked aboard. His frenetic gaze said he was panicked.

She leaned on the gun, pressed its muzzle into his cheek. “Don’t move!” she shouted.

The man started shouting back, spittle flying from his lips. What was he saying? His arms flailed, hitting her randomly and hard. She struggled to get her knee on his elbow, then had to defend against a sudden strike toward her neck.

“Help me out here, Zhao!”

A black-booted foot pinned the man’s windmilling arm to the floor and a flood of lilting, diving words spilled from Zhao’s mouth. The man beneath her abruptly quit fighting.

Nikki, breathing hard, warily leaned back, though she kept the gun on her assailant. “What the hell did you say to him?”

“That you are a crazy American woman and I cannot control you, so he should be still before you lose your mind and kill him.”

“Great.”

“What?” he asked as he retrieved the man’s gun from the floor. “It worked.”

Nikki caught the scent of freshly cut grass. Zhao was teasing her.

She let her smile freeze into a grimace and leaned again toward the man she sat on. He turned his face away, clearly afraid now.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “What does he know?”

Zhao spoke at length with him. During the exchange, she heard Wo Shing Wo mentioned several times, then the conversation seemed to get darker. Wet pennies emanated from Zhao and the man seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, as if afraid of being struck.

“What’s going on?” she asked after Zhao stopped speaking.

He turned toward her then and she saw beneath the black gauze the hard planes of his face. “This man manages one of the Wo’s operations. He’s the Chou Hai—a liaison officer.”

“Yeah. And?”

Zhao’s tone was stiff. “He is to prepare this boat to go to Vladivostok with its cargo.”

“Of what?” And why do I have to keep prompting you? she thought. Cooperate with me.

Angry copper surrounded her, nearly stealing her breath.

“Children. For sex slaves.”

“Damn pervert,” Nikki snarled. She grabbed the front of the man’s coveralls in her fist. “Full cargo? How many children is that?” Her voice rose. “Dozens? Hundreds? How many? Tell me!” She shook him hard, then shoved him back against the floor, away from her as if he stank.

In fact, he did. Mostly of fear. But not of shame or remorse.

Johnny’s hand covered her shoulder. “It’s a large operation. The mainland has plenty of unwanted girls to sell to the highest bidder.” His voice was hard and low. “We’ll shut these bastards down right now.” He then said something to the man, who covered his face with his hands.

Nikki guessed Johnny didn’t have to flash his badge for this guy to know he was in deep trouble.

“What about the passenger?” she asked, pulling herself back to the task at hand.

Another long conversation, and then Johnny said, “He doesn’t know anything about who was coming in on this boat.”

“But the signal’s here. My mark is aboard somewhere.”

Johnny shook his head. “A few passengers came aboard, but they left en route. He’s very clear about that. The rest is just the loaded containers and the crew to sail.”

So was Diviner a crew member? And if he or she was aboard, where?

Frustrated, she yanked open a window hatch, stuck her PDA outside and hit the search button.

The PDA blinked blankly at her.

Diviner was gone.

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