The Catch: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

shake hands or speak to her, didn’t have the faux friendliness of their captain, though from the curiosity written on their faces it would seem that Leo’s men were the first armed escort to have boarded with this crew, if not the ship.
    Munroe paused beside the gangway, let her bag slide off her shoulder, and set it by her feet. Victor and the others continued aft, toward the working and living quarters, which rose five levels above a deck long and wide enough that it could be used to lash down additionalfreight, if needed, but at the moment was empty. The ship’s cargo was limited to the holds below—bags of rice, according to Leo, humanitarian aid for South Sudan by way of Mombasa, Kenya—and scanning the deck for the nearest access hatches, Munroe could only wonder if he was really that stupid or simply believed that she was.
    The captain reboarded while Leo, arms around Amber, lingered on the dock. Unlike the crew, who kept to themselves, the captain approached Munroe and offered a hand, and when she took it, he gripped hers and pumped it in a move of dominance.
    “English is your language?” he said.
    She nodded.
    “Good. Very good,” he said, and welcomed her aboard with more of that same too-genuine-to-be-true friendliness: A minute or two of chitchat, just as he’d done with Leo, and then, duty finished, he turned and called out an order to one of his men. He continued on toward the door that the rest of the team had passed through, and Munroe turned back to the docks, searching out anyone who showed undue interest in the security team’s arrival and departure.
    The lighting and distance worked against her, and finding nothing, she leaned forward to stare at Leo and overtly watch the last of his good-bye. It was childish to needle him like this, but given the circumstances, the immaturity of it only made her want to do it more. He caught her eye, gave his wife a final kiss, and Amber turned from him and climbed behind the wheel of the Mitsubishi.
    Munroe couldn’t see her face but, having been through this with her eight times now, knew that as soon as Amber was alone inside that car, the veneer would crack, and the pain and neediness she’d held back on the dock would seep out and the tears would flow.
    The vehicles circled around, and by the time Leo reached the deck Amber was already out of sight. He paused when he got to Munroe and flashed a grin, his way of showing that her behavior hadn’t bothered him. She picked up her bag to follow him.
    “Have you been on a ship before?” he said.
    “It’s not my first voyage.”
    He frowned, almost as if he’d been counting on her falling seasick on their first night out and was disappointed that it might not be so, then headed up the ladder—stairs in land-based terminology—for the bridge, and she in turn passed through the same door that the rest of the crew had.
    The bosun pointed her up one level to where the helmsmen and mechanics bunked. Her berth was farthest down the passageway, accommodations for one that would be shared by two because Leo’s guards would rotate watch.
    Munroe found Victor in the room, which suited her fine, and she suspected he’d been the one to arrange to have her bunk with him. Munroe dumped her gear on the floor, and without looking up from the array of equipment he’d already spread out on the bed, Victor said, “Leo says you take first.”
    “Is he on first too?”
    Victor nodded and said, “You know the ships?”
    His was the same question as Leo’s, only this one came from a place of concern instead of wanting to see her lose breakfast.
    “I’ve been on a few,” she said.
    Victor grinned and wagged his finger. “You keep secrets,” he said, and the way his gray-streaked beard twitched with his exaggerated speech forced her to return a smile. He’d already unloaded half his bag and unpacked his weapon, had laid out the equipment: handheld VHF radios, protective gear, and supplies—backups to his backups.