With a look tinged with concern, Josie cast a glance over her shoulder, the question hanging in the air, “You're coming with me?” Dexter drove in silence, steering the car toward the dock's vicinity with a focused determination. Reaching for his phone, he swiftly keyed in a number and showed it to Josie, explaining, “This number puts you in touch with Rivodia's second-in-command, Lucas Yowell. He's reliable and can offer assistance when you find yourself in a tight spot.” Josie, mirroring his actions, fetched her own phone. Moses and the team quickly converged on their location, all dressed inconspicuously in everyday attire, blending seamlessly with the surroundings.
Josie's expression betrayed her concern as she asked, “And what about you?” “I'll be right here, waiting,” Dexter replied, his face betraying no emotion. “Mr. Vipera is one of Mr. Dalton's trusted old guards. He wouldn't be involved in daylight operations unless necessary. It's plausible that the intel we got might be a decoy. If Arnold's as crafty as we suspect, then the real action's going to unfold right here.” The river lay ahead, dotted with several large ships moored at a distance.
Josie grasped the gravity of the situation just as she was about to exit the vehicle. Dexter suddenly halted her departure.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtEffortlessly, he popped open the car trunk and rummaged through, eventually handing her two objects. “For protection.” She scrutinized the items, a flash of recognition in her eyes—a stark, ominous barrel stared back at her, a haunting echo of past encounters.
Noticing her hesitation, Dexter, without a word, tucked one of the items securely behind her waist, cautioning, “We're dealing with cornered foes; vigilance is paramount.” In this proximity, the subtle signs of ton Dexter's features were unmistakable—the lines that now framed his eyes spoke volumes of the years that had passed. He was no longer the youthful figure of their earlier days.
Josie nodded slightly, her mind wandering back, “In the past, you would have never allowedto face such danger.” Dexter's demeanor remained unflustered as he met her gaze. “You've cinto your own, strong and independent. A bird destined to soar can't remain caged forever, right?” Gaining Dexter's confidence was an accomplishment in itself. Josie forced a small smile, acknowledging the sentiment.
Dexter echoed the gesture, adding softly, “I merely provided the wings.” There was an underlying tone of solitude in their exchange that Josie couldn't ignore. As she prepared to step out of the car, a concern surfaced, “Are you... Are you dealing with any health issues?” Dexter avoided a direct answer, merely brushing off her concern, “You're reading too much into things, Josie.” With that, she bit back any further questions.
As dusk transitioned to night, the docks thrummed with life. Josie found refuge in a secluded corner, observing Dexter's car standing still. Moses and the rest had dispersed, each embarking on their separate recon missions.
The piercing sound of a whistle marked the beginning of their operation. Josie found herself lying low in a sandy patch, watching two laborers slowly make their way closer.
Their conversation floated over, laced with exhaustion, “This job's a killer, right before the holidays too. It's downright exhausting.” “Complaining? In our line of work, being alive is a luxury. Holidays shouldn't even be on your mind.” The more vocal of the two scanned the area with a telescope, his body adorned with various pieces of equipment.
“What's being loaded onto the ship doesn't look like standard cargo,” he observed.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“The shipment isn't here,” cthe realization.
A spark of clarity hit Josie—if the ship wasn't transporting goods, then what was its cargo? As the two drew nearer, she made a split-second decision, emerging from her hiding spot to incapacitate one with a swift kick. In the sfluid motion, she drew the concealed weapon and aimed it squarely at his head. Capitalizing on the momentary shock of the second man, she trained another gun on him.
“Bullets aren't discerning; I'd think twice if | were you,” she warned, her words freezing them in place, fear etching their faces.
“Who are you?” they managed to ask.
“Just passing through,” she replied nonchalantly.
Their skepticism was palpable. “With everything that's going on today, you really think you can just interfere? What are you, skind of cop?” Josie, now in full control, kept her weapon trained on them, pressing for answers, “What's your business here?” Noticing one attempting to discreetly reach for something behind his back, possibly a pager, she didn't hesitate to intimidate, “Seems you're not too attached to your hand.”