“So will I.” This from John.
“I’d rather you go obtain the necessary warrants and the Home Office backing,” Michael responded.
“I can try, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll have them in time.”
“You should still try. You have contacts in the Home and Foreign Offices. They are more likely to listen to you.”
“The Home Office will hesitate to take action because of diplomatic concerns,” John warned. “We cannot afford to wait for the bureaucrats to untangle themselves.”
Michael’s jaw clenched. “Oh, I don’t plan to wait. We’ll do this ourselves. We can’t risk the pasha sailing with her. Once they reach the open seas…” He left the rest unsaid. “We’ll need to strike swiftly and with precision.”
“We must consider our approach for boarding the ship. The pasha will have guards,” Brentworth interjected.
“How many men do you think he would keep close?”
“Six to twelve guards, plus the ship’s crew,” John replied, his tone measured. “They will be armed, but likely not expecting trouble from us. You need as many men as possible with you. Even then, a direct assault will be risky.”
Michael nodded, mind racing. “I agree. A stealth operation is the best option in this scenario. Good thing that’s my specialty.”
“I will accompany you,” Wang said. “I can take care of any guards quietly.”
Michael met his gaze and nodded. “Thank you. Once we’re on board, we need to move fast. Josephine will be somewhere belowdeck. We extract her and get out before anyone knows what’s happening.”
Michael looked around at the faces of the men. Some he had known for years and were good friends. Others, unexpected allies. But he trusted all of them. All of them had selflessly volunteered without hesitation to help him rescue Josephine. And for that, he would be forever in their debt.
“I have no words to show my appreciation, but we need to leave now.”
They took only a few minutes to prepare the carriage and collect as many weapons as they could while they planned the fastest route to the docks.
They settled on a plan based on their strengths. They all had some experience of fight or combat methods, but they would use stealth to gain access to the ship, aiming to disable any guards as silently as possible, since any outright confrontation could endanger Josephine’s life.
The trip took thirty-four minutes. He knew because he had been counting. The streets of London became congested with traffic as night fell, people going to their evening entertainments. Tonight, he wished he could make them all disappear, keenly aware that every minute that passed could be a minute too late. At last, they arrived at the docks. The carriage stopped on one of the narrow streets that led to the river.
The pasha’s ship loomed in the darkness, in the exact spot where John had said it would be. Its black hull blended with the inky waters of the Thames, save for the faint glimmer of lanterns casting eerie reflections on the river’s surface. The gangplank was still lowered. No doubt waiting for some last minute supplies before the voyage, or for some men to board. But other than that, the ship seemed ready to depart at a moment’s notice.
He counted two men standing guard by the gangplank, another two walked the deck. But they seemed at ease.
They had agreed on splitting into two groups. Hartfield and Wang would disable the guards quietly, while Gabriel and Michael would move quickly and attempt to reach the lower decks and find where Josephine was being held. As they approached the gangplank, Wang and Hartfield moved like shadows. Striking fast and leaving the two men lying on the ground without making a sound.
They boarded the ship and quickly dealt with the other two that were roaming the deck, clearing a way for he and Gabriel to advance toward the poop deck and what he assumed were the owner’s cabins.
He was about to reach the for door, when it started to open from inside. Quickly darting to the shadows, Michael waited until a man emerged and closed it behind him. Moving silently, he grabbed him from behind and placed a knife against his neck.
“If you attempt to make any noise to alert others, I will cut your throat before you finish the first word. Now tell me, is there a lady held captive inside this ship?”
“I know nothing,” the man replied defiantly.
Aycliffe pressed the knife a bit harder into his neck, cutting the flesh until a trickle of blood oozed from the wound.
“I’ll ask one more time, and if you refuse to tell me, I’ll slit your throat and storm the deck.”
“Y-yes, there’s a woman inside. But she rightfully belongs to my master. You’ll never take her fr—”
“Which room?” Michael hissed, making another cut for emphasis.
“At the end of the corridor.”
“How many men are inside?”
