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this. In his limited medical knowledge, Ryang knew his stomach had just been perforated and the burning sensation was caused by gastric acid coming into contact with the surrounding organs and flesh. He also knew it was a mortal wound.
    He looked down at the dark stain spreading across his clothes. Why did blood always look so black at night?
    Ryang wanted to meet death on his feet, but the captain swept a leg, toppling him to the roof of the container.
    It was too shadowy to see the captain’s face, but he hoped it held regret. Being killed over money seemed so petty and trivial. Surely there’d been enough for both of them to share.
    “My family . . . ” Ryang uttered. “Please, give them . . . my share . . . ”
    “I think not.”
    He attempted to kick the captain in the groin and missed. He sensed a boot flying toward his face and felt a sickening crack as his front teeth broke free. Semiconscious from the blow, he spat out the pieces as a second man approached. Without saying a word, the man nodded to the captain and hooked himself into the line. A few seconds later, Ryang saw the newcomer disappear over the edge as he rappelled down. It suddenly dawned on Ryang why the skiff hadn’t left.
    The captain walked past him and looked down the wall of containers. Ryang heard the skiff’s motor power up and knew the man had gotten aboard the smaller vessel.
    Casually, the captain reached down and unhooked Ryang from the rope. He wanted to fight back, but his mind was shutting down.
    He knew weightlessness would come next.
    So this is how my life ends? Murdered over money ?
    The last thing Crewman Ryang thought before his body slammed into the water was, I hope the fall breaks my neck.

CHAPTER 7
    Nathan and Holly were ready when Harv’s one-minute call came. Dressed in black 5.11 Tactical, Nathan would be all but invisible in low light. Holly was a different matter. She’d packed a pair of dark slacks, but she didn’t have any dark tops or coats. Improvising, she donned the leather jacket she wore for their Harley rides. He grabbed her gloves too.
    He locked the house and used his cell phone to activate the security system.
    “I don’t think it will be an issue, but Toby might clam up when I tell him you’re FBI. It should be his choice to talk to us or not.”
    “You can say I’m off duty.”
    “You’re never off duty.”
    “I suppose not.” Holly looked at him for a long moment. “Will you reconsider calling the police? Each passing minute degrades the crime scene.”
    “I get that, but Toby says he knows who did it.”
    Holly didn’t respond.
    “I hear Harv’s car. He just turned onto our street.”
    With his headlights off, Harv drove past them and pulled to the curb. Nathan opened the front passenger door for Holly and climbed into the back.
    “Holly, nice to see you, even under the circumstances.”
    “Thanks, Harvey, you too.”
    “Nate.”
    “Harv.”
    No one spoke for a few seconds. Nathan always believed Harv’s clean-cut appearance mirrored his father’s, but he’d never hold it against him. Half-Hispanic, half-white, he had light-hazel eyes and a dark complexion. Harv looked distinguished—as Holly liked to say. When he spoke, he sounded like James Earl Jones with a Spanish accent. Harv was four inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter than Nathan, but no less deadly when called upon.
    Harv already had Toby’s address plugged into the nav and the program estimated five minutes.
    Harv must’ve sensed Holly’s unease. “This must put you in a difficult situation.”
    “To put it mildly,” she said. “I have to pretend like I don’t know about this. Do you guys have a plan you’d like to share?”
    Nathan said, “We’re kinda figuring that out as we go, but after we talk to Toby, I’d like to go have a look.”
    “At the dead bodies? You’re joking, right?”
    “All I want is a look—what could it hurt?”
    “You want a list?”
    Holly’s attitude puzzled