“We are very close,” he said. “I think we leave the car here.”

“I agree,” Bosch said.

They got out and walked the rest of the way in, holding tight against the warehouse facades and scanning in all directions for forward spotters. Sun led the way and Bosch was right behind him.

Northstar Seafood and Shipping was located on wharf 7. A large green warehouse with Chinese and English printing on its side fronted the dockside and a pier extended out into the bay beyond it. Four -seventy-five-foot net boats with black hulls and green pilothouses were tied up on either side of the pier. Docked at the end was a bigger boat with a large crane jutting skyward.

From his viewpoint at the corner of a warehouse on wharf 6, Bosch could see no activity. The loading bay doors of the Northstar warehouse were all rolled down and the docks and boats looked buttoned up for the weekend. Bosch was beginning to think he had made a terrible mistake in not keeping the tail on the white Mercedes. Then Sun tapped his shoulder and pointed down the length of the pier to the crane boat at the end.

His aim was high and Bosch followed it to the crane. The steel arm extended from a platform that sat atop a rail system fifteen feet over the deck of the boat. The crane could be moved up and down the length of the boat depending upon which ship’s hold was being filled with cargo. The boat was obviously designed to go out to sea and relieve smaller net boats of their catch so that they could continue to harvest. The crane was controlled from a small booth on the upper platform that protected the operator from the wind and other elements at sea.

It was the tinted windows of the booth that Sun was pointing at. With the sun in the sky beyond the boat, Bosch could see the silhouette of a man in the booth.

Bosch pulled himself back around the corner with Sun.

“Bingo,” he said, his voice already tightening with the sudden blast of adrenaline. “Do you think he saw us?”

“No,” Sun said. “I saw no reaction.”

Bosch nodded and thought about their situation. He now believed with complete conviction that his daughter was somewhere on that boat. But getting to the boat without the lookout spotting them seemed impossible. They could wait for him to come down for a meal or bathroom break or a changing of the watch, but there was no telling when that would be or if it would even happen. Waiting defied the urgency that was growing in Bosch’s chest.

He checked his watch. It was almost six. It would be at least two hours before total darkness. They could wait and then make a move. But two hours could be too long. The text messages had put his daughter’s abductors on notice. They could be about to make some sort of move with her.

As if to drive this possibility home, the deep throb of a marine engine suddenly sounded from the wharf. Bosch stole a glimpse around the corner and saw exhaust rising from the stern of the crane boat. And now he saw movement behind the windows of the pilothouse.

He ducked back.

“Maybe he saw us,” he reported. “They started the boat.”

“How many did you see?” Sun asked.

“At least one inside the pilothouse and one still up on the crane. We need to do something. Now.”

To accent the need to move, he reached behind his back and pulled the gun. He was tempted to move around the corner and go down the wharf shooting. He had a fully loaded.45 and liked his chances. He’d seen worse in the tunnels. Eight bullets, eight dragons. And then there would be him. Bosch would be the ninth dragon, as unstoppable as a bullet.

“What’s the plan/” Sun asked.

“No plan. I go in and I get her. If I don’t make it, I’ll make sure none of them do either. Then you go in and get her and put her on a plane out of here. You’ve got her passport in your trunk. That’s the plan.”

Sun shook his head.

“Wait. They will be armed. This plan is not good.”

“You got a better idea? We can’t wait for dark. That boat’s about to go.”

Bosch moved to the edge and took another look. Nothing had changed. The lookout was still up in the booth and there was somebody in the pilothouse. The boat was rumbling on idle but still tied to the end of the pier. It was almost as if they were waiting for something. Or someone.

Bosch ducked back and calmed himself. He considered everything around him and what was available to use. Maybe there was something other than a suicide run at this. He looked at Sun.

“We need a boat.”

“A boat?”

“A small boat. We can’t go down the pier without being seen. They’ll be watching for it. But with a small boat we could create a distraction on the other side. Enough for somebody to go down the pier.”

Sun moved past Bosch and looked around the corner. He surveyed the end of the pier and then ducked back.

“Yes, a boat could work. You want me to get the boat?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the gun and I’m going down the pier to get my daughter.”

Sun nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the car keys.

“Take the keys. When you have your daughter, you drive away. Don’t worry about me.”

Bosch shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“We’ll get someplace nearby but safe and then I’ll call you. We’ll wait for you.”

Sun nodded.

“Good luck, Harry.”

He turned to go.

“And good luck to you,” Bosch said.

After Sun left, Bosch kept his back against the front wall of the warehouse and prepared to wait. He had no idea how Sun would commandeer a boat but he trusted that somehow he’d get his part done and then would create the distraction that allowed Bosch to make his move.

He also thought about finally making the call to the Hong Kong police, now that he had located his daughter, but he quickly discarded that idea as well. Police swarming the pier was no guarantee of his daughter’s safety. He’d stick with the plan.

He turned to look around the corner of the warehouse and make another check of activities on the Northstar boat, when he saw a car approaching from the south. He noted the familiar styling of the front grille of a Mercedes. The car was white.

Bosch slid down the wall to make himself less noticeable. Nets that had been hung to dry from the rigging of two boats between him and the approaching car also gave him camouflage. He watched as the car slowed and turned onto wharf 7 and then headed down the pier toward the crane boat. It was the car they had followed from the Gold Coast. He caught a glimpse of the driver and identified him as the same man who had returned his look earlier.

Bosch did some quick computing and concluded that the man behind the wheel was the man whose phone number had been placed by Peng in the contact list on his daughter’s phone. He had sent the woman and child-probably his wife and son-inside Geo as decoys that would help him identify the person who had been texting him. Spooked by the last message sent by Sun, he had driven them home or to some other safe spot, dropped them and then driven to wharf 7, where Bosch’s daughter was being held.

It was a lot to string together, considering the few known facts he had, but Bosch believed he was on target and that something was about to happen that wasn’t part of the Mercedes man’s original plan. He was deviating. Hurrying things up or moving the merchandise or doing something worse-getting rid of the merchandise.

The Mercedes stopped in front of the crane boat. The driver jumped out and quickly moved across a gangway onto the boat. He yelled something to the man up in the booth but did not break stride as he quickly headed to the pilothouse.

For a moment, there was no further movement. Then Bosch saw the man step out of the crane booth and start climbing down from the platform. After reaching the deck, he followed the Mercedes man into the pilothouse.

Bosch knew that they had just committed a strategic error that gave him a momentary advantage. This was his chance to move down the pier unseen. He pulled his phone again and called Sun. The phone rang and then went to message.