The jetty had rotten clean through in places, creating a hopscotch of holes almost impossible to see in the dark.
Gritting her teeth, Emile slid one foot in front of the other and eased her weight onto it. At the end of the jetty a light flickered and went off.
She paused and steadied her breath.
Patience, she reminded herself. She’d waited fifteen years, she could afford fifteen minutes to get across this dock unscathed.
She ran a hand across the outline of the pistol inside her jacket.
Fifteen minutes, she promised herself.
That’s all she needed.