Chapter 8 - The Ghost of the Mariner
Julian stared at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and slow-dawning realization. ""The Mariner is docked at Terminal Nine. It's scheduled to be handed over to Evelyn’s salvage subsidiary at sunrise tomorrow morning. They’re stripping it for scrap.""
""They aren't stripping it for scrap,"" Maya said, leaning forward, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. ""They're sinking it in the deep trench thirty miles off the continental shelf. Evelyn doesn't want the steel; she wants the evidence gone. If the Mariner goes down, the last physical registry of Arthur’s true estate goes with it. The digital files on this chip will look like an unverified digital forgery without the notarized physical charter to corroborate the cryptographic keys.""
Julian stood up, pacing toward the window that looked out over the darkened marshlands. Terminal Nine was visible in the distance, its towering blue gantry cranes illuminated by strings of sodium vapor lamps. The silhouette of the Vance Mariner loomed against the dark horizon like a beached leviathan—eight hundred feet of rust-streaked iron and fading family pride.
""The terminal is locked down,"" Julian said, his voice tightening. ""Evelyn’s hired mercenaries have the gates manned. They brought in external security after the incident at the hotel. We can’t walk through the front gate with an ID badge.""
""We don't go through the gate,"" Clara interrupted, sliding a heavy ring of brass keys across the pine table. ""The old coal barge slip runs directly beneath Terminal Nine's drydock pump house. Arthur built it during the dock strikes in eighty-eight. It’s silted up, but a flat-bottom skiff can slip through on the high tide.""
Maya picked up the chip, slotting it back into the waterproof casing of the fountain pen. ""The tide peaks at three in the morning. We have two hours.""
Julian turned back from the window, looking at Maya with an intensity that made the room feel suddenly smaller. ""You spent twelve years hiding from this family. You had a quiet life, an identity nobody could trace. Why come back into the meat grinder?""
Maya stood up, meeting his gaze without flinching. ""Because he was my father too, Julian. And watching you let that woman carve up his life’s work was something I couldn't stomach from across the river.""
May you like
Julian held her gaze for three long seconds, then gave a single, curt nod. ""Get your boots on. We have a ship to steal.""
A sudden crunch of gravel outside the boathouse cut through the silence; the red laser dot of a sniper scope drifted across the frosted window pane and settled directly on Julian's chest.
