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“She was here,” Lisha said, pointing to the ground. “Men on foot come from there and there.” She swept her hand toward two stands of trees.
The tall African crossed the clearing in three long strides. “Then,” she continued, “her horse run and then fall.” The last was unnecessary. The swelling carcass of Larra’s horse lay just yards away. Already the hot Chilean sun had made being anywhere near it extremely unpleasant.
Lisha moved toward a large tree. “Men come here. Then move toward horses. Two are carrying something.”
“So she must be still alive,” Melissa Gallant said. “Why else take her away?”
“Indeed,” Katie Reddel agreed. “But is the motive ransom, vengeance, or something else?”
“I don’t think it matters,” Melissa answered. “What matters is whether or not we can find her.” Her answer caused the rest of the women to look once more at Lisha and the slender Métis girl standing beside her.
There were six women in total and each of them would have attracted lascivious
glances had they been alone. There
was the aforementioned Lisha, standing over six feet tall and possessed of
a warrior grace, her
Next in height to Lisha was Melissa. Almost six feet tall, the voluptuous Canadian brunette was strikingly attractive. She stood next to golden-blonde Katie, the oldest of the group by about five years and the natural leader when she could assert her authority over Melissa.
Two other women stood slightly apart from the others. One was the beautiful Manchu warrior Sung Jia Li. Tall for an oriental she matched the slender redhead who finished off the sextet. At five-foot-nine and off slender build, Amy Price was quiet and reserved, preferring to stand back and listen to the others rather than assert herself. Jia Li was less aloof, having served as a commander in the Eight Route Army until she had met Larra. But she preferred to sit back and listen to others before presenting her case for action.
And action is what all of these women were about. All of them were skilled in the use of a variety of weapons as well as various techniques of self-defence having devoted many years of their lives into perfecting them. Now they puzzled over the disappearance of their leader and attempted to formulate a plan for finding her.
First, however, they needed more information and they got that by following Lisha and Ayashe as they tracked Larra.
“She was put on a horse here,” Ayashe said as they came to a place where a number of hoofed and shoed animals had obviously been standing. “Then they rode off toward the road.”
“If they transferred her to a car or truck,” Melissa said. “They will be damned difficult to follow.”
“Correct,” Katie agreed. “We’ll just have to hope that there is some sort of clue there just in case they did.”
Mounting up the six women rode slowly, following the trail of hooves until they reached a dirt road. The milling about of the horses indicated that they had stopped beside the road for awhile before moving off.
“What do you think?” Katie asked, addressing Ayashe and Lisha.
“Can’t tell for sure, the Métis girl answered. “It is possible they transferred into a vehicle, but I’m just guessing.”
“Tracks here,” Lisha said, pointing to the mark of dual tires. She and Ayashe studied the pattern carefully, marking it in their memories. Then the two trackers took charge. In age Lisha and Ayashe were the youngest of the group, but when it came to following a trail they were the leaders. Kicking their horses into motion they trotted down the road the other women following.
It should have been almost impossible to follow the trail down the hard-packed
road, but the Ullabomba warrior and the Métis girl found patterns
in the dirt and gravel that anyone else would have
missed. Moving steadily they
rode into the port town of
“A ship do you think?” Melissa asked Katie.
“A strong possibility,” the American-born blonde answered. “That might help. We can check ship departures and see if any make sense. Of course, there is always the possibility that Larra is merely being held in the waterfront area.”
“So many possibilities,” Melissa muttered. “She could be kidnapped for ransom or be on some ship bound for the white slave trade in the Orient. It would be a perfect way to exact revenge on her and it has been tried before.”
Lisha and Ayashe had stopped. The tracks had disappeared into asphalt. There was a possibility of picking them up later, but for now they were lost. “We’ll head down to the waterfront,” Katie said. “But first I think we better park our horses and get our gear. I don’t fancy any more searching for Larra without being properly armed. Whoever got her could just as easily get us.”
Most of the other women nodded their agreement. Much as they desired to keep up the search before the trail got too cold they knew there was no point in becoming victims themselves. Turning their mounts they headed back toward the outskirts of town and the ranch where Larra had been staying. Lisha and Ayashe, however, lingered.
Katie looked questioningly at them and Ayashe explained. “We’ll stay. We might be closer than we know. If we find anything we can leave you a message.”
“Then I’m staying too,” Melissa said.
“How good is your Spanish?” Katie asked. “I don’t mean to deride your loyalty, but when it comes to asking questions I am better suited. If three stay and three go I should be with Ayashe and Lisha.”
Melissa bit back a sharp reply knowing that Katie was right and cursing her rudimentary Spanish. “Alright,” she conceded. “But leave us some sort of message so we can find you.”
“”I’ll do better than that. If we find anything I’ll come right back. We can go after her together.”
Forced to be satisfied with that Melissa joined the others. Looking back over her shoulder as she rode off she saw her three companions disappearing into the maze of streets near the waterfront. “God damn it,” she muttered. “I hope this isn’t a mistake.”
Katie gave a quick look over her shoulder at Melissa’s retreating figure. She liked the younger woman, but sometimes she could be very trying, especially when she was trying to assert her authority. It didn’t help that there was a certain amount of Canadian-American rivalry between the two of them or the rumour that Melissa and Larra had a relationship that went a little beyond mere friendship. Only Amy had known Larra longer than Katie and she regarded Melissa’s possessive attitude when it came to Larra as being somewhat presumptuous. However, none of this was really important. What was important was getting Larra back. She turned her attention to following Lisha and Ayashe.
The roads near the dockyard area were mostly paved, but here and there were places where a pothole revealed its treacherous self. It was on these obstacles that the two trackers were focusing, hoping to pick up another trace of the distinctive tire tracks. Since the road entering the dockyard ran off in several directions Lisha and Ayashe split up, leaving Katie in the middle as they searched from some sign of the tire mark.
A shout from Ayashe sent both Katie and Lisha running toward the Métis girl. A number of heads turned their way. The dockyard population was almost exclusively male, and the appearance of three very attractive and ethnically diverse women drew their attention. Fortunately no one seemed so interested as to bother them and they came up to stand beside Ayashe. Imprinted in the mud of a pothole was the tread mark they had been looking for. “This way,” Ayashe motioned, pointing down the dock.
Together the trio headed in the indicated direction, studying the broken pavement for more signs that the truck had come this way. Eventually they reached the end of the dock, stopping in front of a large warehouse. “Hell,” Katie muttered. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.” Larra could be in the warehouse or even on a ship somewhere out at sea. There was nothing for it but to instigate a search of the area, but first a quick inquiry might help. She headed toward a small shed sporting the Chilean flag, guessing that this might have something to do with the harbour authority. Inside sat a portly personage wearing something that resembled a uniform.
“Buenos dias.” She greeted the rather slovenly individual in the shed. Although it was only mid-morning he appeared to be eating his lunch and was clutching a half-bitten sandwich in one hand.
“Buenos dias to you, senora.” His reply was polite enough, but Katie did not like the way his eyes rested on her ample cleavage even though the look was fleeting.
“I wonder if you could help me,” Katie continued. “I would like to know if any ships have left this dock in the last day or so.”
“Ships, senora?” the man asked, running a greasy paw through his receding hairline.
“Yes, you know, those large floating things that carry cargo and people,” Katie replied.
Her sarcastic tone seemed to anger the man. His eyes narrowed and he cleared his throat and spat near her feet. It was the wrong reaction. Katie turned her head and motioned to Lisha. The tall African had seen the man’s reaction and was already moving. Her sudden movement in his direction had the man recoiling into the shed. Lisha loomed over him, her expression clearly menacing and even without a weapon in her hand the man flinched from her impressive presence.
“Let’s try that again,” Katie said, placing a restraining hand on Lisha’s muscular arm. “Have any ships left this dock in the last few days?”
“Si, senora,” the man replied, suddenly much more polite.
“Give me their names and destinations,” Katie replied.
The man produced a thick ledger and Katie thumbed through it. There had been a number of sailings during the past few days, but nothing that she could clearly determine as suspicious. She sighed and handed the ledger back. “Gracious, senor.” Turning, she moved to leave the shed.
“Pardon, senora, but what are you looking for?”
Surprised, Katie turned back to the Chilean official. “I’m not sure,” she replied, uncertain as to how much she could tell him. “I have reason to believe that a friend of mine may have departed on a ship in the last few days, not necessarily voluntarily. We have tracked her to this dock.”
“Hmm,” the man said. “I saw no woman, but there is someone who might know more than I. For a few pesos I might be able to introduce you to him.”
“Really?” Katie answered. She was highly tempted to turn the wheedling bastard over to Lisha for a few minutes, but realized that a small bribe would probably get even quicker results. “Alright,” she answered, “I’ll give you twenty US dollars now and twenty more if I am happy with what I have learned.”
The man gave her a greasy smile. “Certainly, senora. I am sure you will be pleased with what I can show you.”
“Show me,” Katie ordered. Turning to Lisha and Ayashe she spoke in English. “Keep your eyes open. I don’t trust this clown.”
They followed the man across the dock toward one of the warehouses. The dock was piled with bales and boxes, many of which were being moved by dock workers. Weaving their way among the men the reached the warehouse. “This way, senora,” the man said, stepping to one side and indicating a door.
Katie hesitated. “If you prefer, senora I will go first,” the man said.
Katie nodded and the man opened the door and stepped in. Following, Katie and her companions found themselves inside what appeared to be a normal warehouse. It was stacked with barrels, boxes, and bales similar to those on the outside. The man threaded himself between them. With no other choice Katie and her companions followed.
“Who exactly are we meeting?’ Katie asked, moving closer to the Chilean official. They were now in the centre of the warehouse and she was beginning to wonder if she was being led around by her nose.
“Not far now,” the man replied. He led them between a long row of crates, and Katie looked nervously around. There were too many places in the warehouse where an ambush might occur. Lisha seemed to think so too. She stayed close, apparently taking no chances on their guide doing something tricky.
The heavyset man finally stopped before another door. He knocked and then without waiting for an answer opened it and stepped inside. Katie followed and found herself in a small office with a window that looked out on another section of the dock. Seated behind a small paper-cluttered desk was a slender fair-haired man. He looked up inquiringly as she entered.
“Senor Smith,” the fat guide said. “This lady is looking for a missing friend.”
Smith got to his feet and extended his hand. “Jason Smith,” he said in accented Spanish. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
Katie couldn’t quite place his accent. He definitely wasn’t Spanish and his English name seemed to give him away, but somehow she had a suspicion that he was not English either. “Katie Reddel,” she answered, taking his hand. “And this is Lisha and Ayashe Belcourt.”
“Enchanted,” Smith answered. “And how may I help you? Jose indicates that you are looking for someone.”
“Yes, a friend,” Katie said. “A very good friend. I have reason to believe she may have been abducted and smuggled aboard a ship from this dock.”
“Kidnapping? This is a very serious matter. Have you contacted the police?”
“I haven’t as yet,” Katie answered. “I have only just tracked her to this dock. But I intend to do so soon. In the meantime I thought it best to act.” She studied Smith closely as she answered, gauging his reaction, but he was either a very good actor or knew nothing.
“Well, this is my warehouse,” Smith said. “But I don’t keep track of the comings and goings of every ship. However, it is possible that one of my dockhands may have seen something unusual. Would you like to accompany me while I question them?”
Jose cleared his throat and Katie remembered. Taking out another twenty she paid him off and with a bow he left the room.
“Chileans,” Smith said. “They don’t do anything unless there is some sort of payoff.” He moved out from behind his desk and moved to a door that led out to the busy wharf. “If you will just follow me I’ll check with my foreman.”
Trailing Smith the three women moved through the doorway and onto the dock. A score of workers were busily moving cargo from the dock to a small freighter. Even the sudden appearance of three very exotic women only caused them to pause momentarily in their work and then they went back to what they were doing.
Smith strode across the dock, stopping just a few feet away from the freighter and motioned to a small dark man. “Rodrigo,” he called. “Please come over here.”
Rodrigo came forward and Smith said something to him that Katie could not hear. She stepped a little closer just as Smith turned. “I think I have found something you will find interesting,” Smith said, backing a little farther away from her.
Puzzled, Katie stepped forward and there was a shout of warning from Lisha, but it came a split second too late; a heavy cargo net crashed over her, driving her and both companions to their knees. Caught completely off guard, Katie’s breath was knocked out of her. She was aware of Lisha snarling in rage and had a sense of the powerful warrior slashing at the net with her knife, but everything else was a confused blur. Too late she realized she had been lured into a trap. Regaining her senses she saw Smith’s boots in front of her and looked up through the gaps in the net.
“Looking for your friend were you?” Smith said, switching to English. “Well, you’re going to see her, but not in the way that you planned.”
Katie cursed silently. Now she recognized the accent; Smith was German. Whatever he intended was not likely to be pleasant. She pushed against the net trying to lift it from her, but several men were holding down the edges of the net, pinning her helplessly.
“This is so messy,” Smith said.
“I try not to attract attention, and you create this
scene.” He knelt beside
her, his feet just on the edge of the
net. “However, I can see
that you and your companions are going to be a worthwhile
addition. Are there any more
of you I wonder? If I remember
correctly
Katie did not answer. She lay quiet, conserving her strength and wondering if Smith would notice that her hand was reaching for the Sauer seven millimeter that was strapped to her ankle.
“About time,” Smith said, but he wasn’t talking to her. Through the net she could see Rodrigo hand him something. She knew what it was a few seconds later when the distinctive odour of chloroform assailed her nostrils. Desperately she attempted to reach for the Sauer, but it was already too late.
“No you don’t my blonde Valkyrie,” Smith said, thrusting a damp rag though the net.
Katie held her breath as her mouth and nose were covered, but Smith merely sneered. “Sooner or later we all have to breathe. We’ll see if your lungs are as impressive as your breasts.”
Katie’s chest heaved from the strain. Her fingers touched the cuff of her pants, and pulled it up, caressing the butt of the pistol.
“You are determined aren’t you?” Smith smirked. He was clearly amused at her attempts to escape. Without removing the chloroform-soaked rag he reached through the net and nimbly pulled the gun from her ankle holster.
“Nice little weapon this. I see you have the good taste to choose a weapon of German manufacture.”
“Bastard,”
Katie thought. Then she took
a breath.
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