Punching Tickets: Book Five in The Mad Mick Series by Franklin Horton

Author:Franklin Horton [Horton, Franklin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

31

The Shandong

Mediterranean

The sun was up now and conditions weren't ideal for moving around the ship, but Conor had no choice. The Chinese security team was aware of his presence and would launch a full-scale search for him as soon as they discovered what he'd done to Fat. He had to assume that others on the ship knew about him as well. The only thing he had going for him was that it was still early morning. A lot of people probably hadn't gotten out of bed yet. They hadn't gotten the news that there was an assassin in their midst.

Conor's path to his stateroom was not as direct as it could have been. Fat had taken his map of the ship when he'd searched him and Conor was in an unfamiliar section of the ship. Once, he heard voices in the stairwell and had to duck out onto a floor to let them pass. Another time he came to a dead end and had to backtrack. After a few false starts, he finally hit a set of stairs that took him to the dark floor where he and Barb had been hiding for the last few days.

When he burst onto the familiar floor, he hooked a left and sprinted to their stateroom, needing to warn Barb that their cover was blown. When he spotted the room number, he slid to a stop and tapped on the door. "Barb!"

When there was no answer, he banged with his fist. "Barb!” he hissed. “Let me in!"

Still no answer.

Conor cursed and laid his head against the door, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He needed to get his head together and come up with a plan. He wanted to assume that Barb was safe, but what if the security team had searched this floor and discovered her?

"Hey!" came a loud voice.

Conor flinched and threw a glance down the hall. Three of the Chinese security team had come in from the same stairwell he'd used. Conor raised the stolen submachine gun and unleashed a burst of fire in their direction. Two of the men were hit, one screaming as he writhed on the floor. The third man launched himself to his right, trying to take cover in a doorway.

Conor wasn't sure if they knew he was the same man they'd already taken into custody earlier. It would have been hard to tell in the low light. There was a flash of light from the far end of the hallway and bullets stitched the wall near Conor. He had to get out of the hall or he was a dead man. Except for the shallow doorways, there was no cover to be had.

He sprinted down the hall, bouncing from wall to wall like a pinball, trying to make himself a hard target. He spotted another stairwell and ducked inside. He paused there, heart pounding, then began counting down.

"Five...four...three...two...one."

He burst back into the hallway, sub-gun raised. The security man was running in his direction as hard as he could, ready to pursue Conor up the stairs.

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