directed them to a small patrol boat docked nearby. Two uniformed city police officers sat in the wheelhouse, monitoring a distant ship with binoculars.
“I am Lieutenant Dukova,” the older one said. He dismissed his underling, who scurried off the boat.
“Where is the salvage ship moored?” Ana asked.
Dukova handed her the binoculars. “She’s the large vessel in the middle of the bay.” He pointed to the lights of a ship a half mile away.
Ana could just make out a myriad of deck cranes under the ship’s lights. She nodded at Ralin. “That appears to be her. How long has she been there?”
“Port security said she was identified around six this evening. She was already at anchor, so we are unsure as to her exact arrival. We’ve had her under surveillance since seven-thirty.” He stifled a yawn. “The harbormaster thinks she’s a local vessel named Besso.”
“Any external activity?” Ralin asked.
“A small black crew boat tied up alongside for about an hour at dusk.”
“Was anything transferred from the ship?” Ana asked.
“Not that we could see. A lone man boarded and later left by himself. There didn’t appear to be any transfer of goods.”
“Did you track the crew boat?”
“No. It left the harbor. I didn’t have the resources to follow it.” Feeling Ana’s eyes bore into him, he waved a hand toward a bench seat beneath a wide window. “Why don’t you sit down and get comfortable? There’s coffee in the galley.”
Ana and Ralin sat and took turns watching the Besso while loading up on Dukova’s coffee.
At half past three, Ralin cleared his throat. “I see some black smoke from the funnel. I think they’ve started their engines.”
Ana pursed her lips and pulled out a cell phone. After a quick call, she shook her head at Ralin. “Still no word on the warrant.”
Ralin studied the ship with the field glasses. “I see a crewman on deck. It had been deserted until now. I think she’s preparing to leave port.”
Dukova nodded. “She could be relocating her mooring, but I doubt it. A half hour to warm the engines and she’ll be on her way.”
“Where’s the rest of your assault team?” Ana asked Dukova.
He looked at his watch. “My team was to assemble at the security shack at four-thirty.”
“Can you get them here now?”
Dukova gave her a doubtful look. “I can try.”
Ralin kept scanning the salvage ship. “Perhaps we can just track her until we get the warrant.”
“I don’t have much range with this,” Dukova said, patting the boat’s wheel. “It could get difficult on the open sea, particularly in poor weather.”
“There seems to be some activity in the wheelhouse,” Ralin said.
“We can’t let them leave.” Ana stared at Dukova. “Take us to her.”
“We can’t board without a warrant,” he said. “We’re too few for an assault anyway.”
“I’ll take responsibility. Just get us aboard—unseen, if possible.”
Dukova looked to Ralin, but the Bulgarian agent saw the determined look in Ana’s eyes and merely nodded.
Dukova cast off the lines and motored the patrol boat from the dock. With its running lights extinguished, he guided the boat in a broad arc around the harbor to approach the salvage ship from her stern. A hundred meters from the ship, he cut speed to a bare idle.
No one was visible on the Besso’s stern as they approached at a cat’s crawl. Dukova brought the small boat alongside with an expert touch, allowing Ralin to leap aboard from the pilothouse roof. Ana tossed him a line and he tied the boat to a stanchion. The Europol agent climbed aboard with her gun drawn, Dukova following a few seconds later.