Sophie got up and fetched a fresh cup of coffee for Waxman, and hot water for tea as they waited.She handed water and a teabag to Feirn, then dunked her teabag up and down.
The crane’s mechanical groan filled the conference room speakers as the crew got it activated.Waxman hadn’t moved, his attention laser-focused on the screens—though he sipped the black coffee Sophie had brought as if on autopilot.
Eventually, the container settled on deck with a resonant clang.Chen and Marcella approached as one of the sailors produced bolt cutters.
“A heavy lock,” Chen observed.“Not standard shipping security.”
The lock snapped as the sailor applied brute force to the long handles.Sophie held her breath as the Coast Guard men swung the doors open, and moveable work lights flooded the interior.
“Holy sh—” Marcella caught herself.“Sir, we have visual confirmation.The artifacts are here.”
Sophie’s heart leaped with excitement as the cameras revealed the interior—custom foam cradles, archival packing, each piece carefully stacked, pristine and accounted for.The feather cape’s red and yellow plumage seemed to glow even through the grainy feed.
“Every piece from Thornfield’s compound,” Chen confirmed, checking her inventory as the men moved the items to be counted.
Marcella turned back to the captain.“Do you have any passengers?”
“No.”
She nodded to the Coast Guardsmen who’d accompanied them.“Verify this, please.”
The search of the ship for hidden passengers or guardians of the artifacts took another hour.Finally Chen confirmed.“No extra personnel or passengers.Container’s empty except for the artifacts.”
“Check again,” Waxman ordered.“Look for hidden compartments, false walls.”
They searched for another hour, obtaining blueprints of the ship layout and comparing them to what they faced.The Coast Guardsmen took the lead; they did this work often, using fiber optic scopes to probe for potential voids.
“Sir,” Chen’s voice carried disappointment.“No suspects.The crew checks out—all legitimate employees.No one matching our suspect photos.”
Sophie slumped back.They’d recovered the artifacts but missed the real prize—actual Brotherhood members.
“Begin transfer of the relics to the Kimball,” Waxman ordered.“Carefully.”
The next hour passed in tense concentration.Sophie watched as each artifact was photographed, catalogued, and placed in a transfer chute to the Coast Guard cutter.Chen’s camera showed her cradling a boxedlei niho palaoalike a newborn.The whale tooth hook was ancient and irreplaceable.
“Seas are picking up,” the Coast Guard commander warned.“We need to expedite.”
A swell lifted the ships, the gap between them yawning wider before the lines snapped taut.Marcella’s camera showed a crate teetering at the chute’s edge.
“Hold it!”she shouted, lunging forward.
Sophie’s fingernails bit into her palms as Marcella’s camera went wild—sky, deck, ocean, then stability as she steadied the crate.“Secured.That was close.”
Finally, the last piece was transferred.The cameras showed agents and Coast Guard personnel exhausted but victorious, the artifacts safe in the Kimball’s hold.
“Outstanding work,” Waxman said, the first emotion he’d shown all night.“Bring them home.”
As the ships separated and the monitors went dark, Sophie fell back against her seat in the sudden quiet.Waxman’s coffee had gone cold, her tea was forgotten.
“They sent the artifacts off without an escort,” she said.“Put the container on an unguarded ship, probably paid the shipping company through shell corporations.”
Waxman’s jaw worked.“But we got the artifacts.That’s what matters.”
“We wanted the thieves, too.”
“Of course.But sometimes you have to make the best of what you can get.”Waxman stood up.“Let’s call it a day.”He headed for the door.Feirn followed, gesturing that he was going to the restroom.
Sophie continued to stare at the blank monitors.Her mother was still missing.Connor still faced death in four days.
