in off-limit parts of the ship. I’ll take good care of them, don’t you worry. Look, I need to shower before the crew has to fumigate the whole place to get rid of my stench. Holler if the uniform doesn’t fit.”
Chapter Six
For such an old ship, the Wave Dream boasted a surprising amount of modern decor and amenities, upgrades from when I’d last been on board. Perhaps the saddest of the changes was the removal of the original curved staircases leading from the captain’s stateroom to the next level where many of the ship’s prized cabins were located. I kept my cap’s brim low to mask my scowl as I took the escalator.
Maybe I was old fashioned, but the addition of technology to the cruise liner took away from its sweeping elegance, bowing to the inevitable march of time. Armed with one of Zachary’s clipboards in one hand and a marker in the other, I stepped out of the flow of the crowds heading to dinner to examine the sitting area. I chewed on the marker’s cap as I referenced the clipboard, went down the list, and checked off everything that was in order. Once I finished my inspection, the list would go back to Zachary and what didn’t pass muster with me would be dealt with.
While avoiding notice was my goal, I had learned from past experience that the best way to go about it was to look busy. Someone hard at work was less likely to be interrupted by a passenger. Even if someone had a question, I knew almost as much about the cruise liner as the crew. I’d manage, one way or another. All I had to do was walk from one end of the ship to the other, checking over my list as I went.
How hard could it be?
I wanted to adopt my briskest stride and get to the cargo bay, but I forced myself to keep my pace purposeful without looking hurried. The crew of a luxury liner didn’t rush. The walk was almost as unnerving as rigging my brother’s truck to explode. Instead of being shredded in the blast, if I were caught, I’d end up in Inquisition custody, unable to protect Evelyn. My palms were wet with sweat, and I resisted the urge to wipe them off on my trousers.
The crowd flowed in the direction of the dining hall, leaving me to wade through them, my head ducked while I leaned forward to mask my height. If my path crossed any Inquisitors, I didn’t spot them and they didn’t stop me. Entering the cargo bay involved heading down a flight of steps to a pair of locked industrial doors. It was a two-step process to access the bay, involving a physical key and a code punched into a number pad. I opened the doors, fighting with their weight to push my way inside.
Other ships in the same class as the Wave Dream could carry hundreds more passengers. Instead of the extra staterooms, the ship had been rigged with an expanded cargo bay, fashioned after a modern warehouse. I stood on a catwalk overlooking half of the multi-storied space. A maze of crates, shipping containers, and pallets were secured with ropes and netting. Pulleys equipped with chains with hooks swung from the railing overhead.
It’d been a while since I had been in the cargo bay of any of the ships I used for my smuggling operations. According to Zachary’s directions, I’d find the supervisor’s office below me, accessed by a staircase somewhere to my right. I closed the door, making certain to lock it and reengage the security system. The catwalk creaked under me as I headed to the office. I descended to the main floor of the warehouse. It wasn’t until I passed through a gap between two stacks of crates that I saw the darkened office. The door had been left open.
“Odd,” I muttered, tucking Zachary’s clipboard under my arm. The supervisor, like Zachary, was one of my long-term friends. Brandon wasn’t the type to walk off shift without locking up, not when he was responsible for the legal and illegal inventories on board the ship. He didn’t like leaving a job unfinished, either. When Zachary wasn’t available, I went to him—and
Chapter Six
For such an old ship, the Wave Dream boasted a surprising amount of modern decor and amenities, upgrades from when I’d last been on board. Perhaps the saddest of the changes was the removal of the original curved staircases leading from the captain’s stateroom to the next level where many of the ship’s prized cabins were located. I kept my cap’s brim low to mask my scowl as I took the escalator.
Maybe I was old fashioned, but the addition of technology to the cruise liner took away from its sweeping elegance, bowing to the inevitable march of time. Armed with one of Zachary’s clipboards in one hand and a marker in the other, I stepped out of the flow of the crowds heading to dinner to examine the sitting area. I chewed on the marker’s cap as I referenced the clipboard, went down the list, and checked off everything that was in order. Once I finished my inspection, the list would go back to Zachary and what didn’t pass muster with me would be dealt with.
While avoiding notice was my goal, I had learned from past experience that the best way to go about it was to look busy. Someone hard at work was less likely to be interrupted by a passenger. Even if someone had a question, I knew almost as much about the cruise liner as the crew. I’d manage, one way or another. All I had to do was walk from one end of the ship to the other, checking over my list as I went.
How hard could it be?
I wanted to adopt my briskest stride and get to the cargo bay, but I forced myself to keep my pace purposeful without looking hurried. The crew of a luxury liner didn’t rush. The walk was almost as unnerving as rigging my brother’s truck to explode. Instead of being shredded in the blast, if I were caught, I’d end up in Inquisition custody, unable to protect Evelyn. My palms were wet with sweat, and I resisted the urge to wipe them off on my trousers.
The crowd flowed in the direction of the dining hall, leaving me to wade through them, my head ducked while I leaned forward to mask my height. If my path crossed any Inquisitors, I didn’t spot them and they didn’t stop me. Entering the cargo bay involved heading down a flight of steps to a pair of locked industrial doors. It was a two-step process to access the bay, involving a physical key and a code punched into a number pad. I opened the doors, fighting with their weight to push my way inside.
Other ships in the same class as the Wave Dream could carry hundreds more passengers. Instead of the extra staterooms, the ship had been rigged with an expanded cargo bay, fashioned after a modern warehouse. I stood on a catwalk overlooking half of the multi-storied space. A maze of crates, shipping containers, and pallets were secured with ropes and netting. Pulleys equipped with chains with hooks swung from the railing overhead.
It’d been a while since I had been in the cargo bay of any of the ships I used for my smuggling operations. According to Zachary’s directions, I’d find the supervisor’s office below me, accessed by a staircase somewhere to my right. I closed the door, making certain to lock it and reengage the security system. The catwalk creaked under me as I headed to the office. I descended to the main floor of the warehouse. It wasn’t until I passed through a gap between two stacks of crates that I saw the darkened office. The door had been left open.
“Odd,” I muttered, tucking Zachary’s clipboard under my arm. The supervisor, like Zachary, was one of my long-term friends. Brandon wasn’t the type to walk off shift without locking up, not when he was responsible for the legal and illegal inventories on board the ship. He didn’t like leaving a job unfinished, either. When Zachary wasn’t available, I went to him—and
Similar Books
