Free Pirate by Clive Cussler

rusty, squeaking sound.”
    He nodded toward the end of the warehouse they stood against. A gull cried out overhead, startling Remi as it dove down into the water just a few feet away.
    Sam gave her a thumbs-up signal.
    She nodded, then trailed him as he started forward again, following his lead as he ducked beneath a window to keep from being seen—on the chance someone was watching from within that particular warehouse. Unfortunately, the dock was long, and they didn’t know which warehouse they might have gone into.
    When they reached the end of the building, Sam peered around the corner, saw the SUV parked between buildings. A door of the warehouse on the far side of the vehicle stood slightly ajar. He stepped back. “It’s there.”
    â€œAnyone in it?”
    â€œDoesn’t look like it,” he said. “The door is open on the next building. I’m taking a stab that’s where they are.”
    Remi nodded, then glanced back in the direction they’d come,hoping to see the deputy’s car speeding their way. Sam didn’t bother mentioning that he was at least ten minutes behind them. They were on their own.
    He watched the warehouse a few moments, wishing he had something beside a tire iron.
    His gaze strayed to the SUV, realizing they’d only seen the two men in the front. No other passengers.
    Sam motioned for Remi to stay put. He crouched down and moved over to the SUV, rising just enough to peer into the tinted back windows.
    Bree was there on the floorboard, her hands bound behind her, a gag over her mouth, her feet tied.
    He tapped on the window, relieved when she looked up at him. He put his finger to his lips to let her know that they weren’t going to leave her there.
    Bree nodded, and Sam tried to open the vehicle’s door. Locked, of course. He gave her a smile of encouragement, then checked to make sure it was clear before returning to Remi. “She’s in the car.”
    â€œIs she okay?”
    â€œTied-up, but appears okay,” Sam said. “We need to get a look into that warehouse first. Find out what we’re up against.”
    They made their way to the warehouse near the open door.
    Sam put his ear against the side of the building, but couldn’t hear anything. “What I wouldn’t give for that mirror from your purse right now.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œTo see inside that door without breaking cover.”
    She held up her phone. “How about a camera lens?”
    â€œAs brilliant as you are beautiful.”
    â€œFlattery will get you—”
    â€œEverywhere?”
    â€œA cell phone,” she whispered as she accessed the camera feature, then handed it to him.
    Sam set the tire iron on the ground, then squatted down as he held the camera close to the floor. He angled it about, using the lens to see in, as he took a movie of the interior. After about a minute, he rose, stepped back, and played the recording.
    â€œThere,” he said, pointing. They saw three men leaning on a workbench, at least two with guns in hand, looking down at something—probably the map book that Remi had turned over to Bree. The picture was small but clear.
    â€œOur two fake cops from the hotel,” Remi said.
    â€œAnd our robber from the bookshop.”
    Wait? Or move in? He weighed the risks. One gun and a tire iron against three armed men. So the odds sucked. But Sam had Remi, and when it came to capable partners, he’d take her over some brainless thug any day. He grabbed the tire iron and pulled Remi away from the doorway to the other side of the vehicle. “First thing,” he whispered, “is we get Bree out of this car.”
    His thought was simply to smash the car window—until he glanced over and saw the red light flashing on the dash.
    â€œPlan B?” Remi asked.
    Actually, his initial plan might still work. The vehicle looked like a base model, one he hoped didn’t come with