Spader couldn’t just leave him. Per was a right dunderhead, and Spader’s life would be smooth waters without him, but he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try to find out whether the soaker was still alive.
Maybe Per never left that linen closet. That would be where Spader would look first.
Spader poked his head above the ladder and scanned the deck.
Now that the sun had gone down, the deck lights were on, so Spader had no trouble seeing that there were still no raiders at the back end of the boat. But he’d also be spotted immediately if anyone looked.
Spader raced across the deck and dropped onto the ladder leading below. No point even in checking for raiders—they were either there or they weren’t.
Luck was with him. The corridor was empty. He pulled the pistol from his waistband again. Now he moved slowly, quietly, deliberately. He listened at each closed door, hoping he’d get some clue to what happened to Per.
He arrived at the linen closet. That door was wide open.
Spader slowed his breathing to calm himself. Then he stepped into the doorway, weapon aimed chest high.
It was empty.
The closet had been his best guess. Only guess, truth be told. If Per wasn’t in here, Spader would have to search the entire ship, room by room, until he either found him or found his dead body.
He continued along the corridor, stopping and listening at each door. As he approached the last door, he heard talking.
“How many others?” a hard voice demanded. “Where are they hiding?”
“There are no others. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
Spader’s heart sped up. Per!
The sound of fist hitting flesh made Spader cringe.
“Let’s try this again,” the hard voice snarled. “Finding you in that hold was a big surprise. And we don’t like surprises.”
Per must have heard the raiders coming and found a new hiding place, Spader thought.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Per said, the terror in his voice clear. “I told you the truth and you don’t believe me.”
“What do you think, Shax?” the hard voice said. “Do you believe him?”
“Keep working on him, Frey.” Shax’s voice was right on the other side of the door. “Either we’ll get the truth out of him, or we’ll kill him. Either way we get what we want.”
Spader pushed the door in with a quick, powerful flick, slamming it into the raider called “Shax,” startling him and knocking him to the floor. Spader jumped into the room and pressed his foot hard onto Shax’s neck. He aimed his silver pistol at the raider who had hit Per. Shax grabbed Spader’s ankle, but Spader just pressed down harder, cutting off the man’s air.
“Wouldn’t suggest that,” Spader said. “A crushed windpipe is tough to get over.”
Shax stopped struggling and Spader eased up. A tiny bit.
“I see why you don’t like surprises,” Spader said. Without lowering his pistol, he knelt down and disarmed Shax. Now he aimed a weapon at each raider. “They do put you at a disadvantage.”
Frey smiled slowly at Spader. “So you got the best of us. But do you really think you can fight off all of us?”
“What I think is that if you leave this guy’s not-so-pretty face intact,” Spader said, “you can do a lot better than if you leave him for dead.”
“Yeah?” Frey smirked. “What makes you think that?”
Spader smiled cheerfully. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”