CHAPTER 56
Port Harcourt’s night air was heavy, thick with the oily tang of salt and diesel. The docks were quieter than I expected—eerily so. The sound of lapping water and the creak of distant cargo cranes filled the silence as Lana, Chen, and I crouched behind a rusting container, our breath held like fragile glass.
Lana adjusted the strap of her bulletproof vest and glanced at me. “Last chance to back out.”
I scoffed, checking the small Glock holstered under my jacket. “Not a chance.”
Chen’s hand touched mine lightly, briefly. A silent reassurance. We hadn’t spoken about the pregnancy since the confession, but his eyes told me he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Neither had I.
We had a plan. A fragile, risky one. Martha’s intel placed the shipment—a truck disguised as carrying el
