Chapter 27
With the big drone gone, the skies were left to Paul and the tiny Hawkeye Raptor. The quiet little machine moved slowly to a spot above the last group of trees fronting the harbor. From there they had a perfect view of the dock, and the red ship tied up to it.
To Paul’s surprise this dock was nearly as crowded as the space beside the Lyra.
He could see a half dozen trucks parked there.
Crates and boxes were being taken off the trucks and put on a conveyor belt that led up and into the ship.
“Looks like they’re taking on fresh produce and other provisions. ”
He knew Kurt could see that on the screen back in the Lyra, but he figured a little narration wouldn’t hurt.
“They didn’t come all the way here to pick up nectarines,” Kurt replied. “Keep watching.”
Paul did just that, but with his eyes focused on what he could see through the drone’s camera, he wasn’t really paying attention to the surroundings.
He was slightly surprised when Gamay nudged him and pulled close. “We’ve got some company,” she whispered.
Paul knew better than to make a sudden turn. “Trouble?” he whispered back.
“Not sure,” Gamay said. “Three men just came through the gate: they’re walking our way. This is the main path, but…”
“Good point,” Paul said. “Let’s get off the main path. Surely there’s something else to see around here.”
Paul took a few steps and quickly realized that walking anywhere while looking at the world through the drone’s eye view would be awkward at best. The heads-up display was not too bad, he could see past that, but the flickering images from the drone’s camera were more difficult to overcome.
He slowed his pace, but when his foot found a pothole in the sidewalk, he lurched to the right unexpectedly and nearly went over.
Gamay caught him and held him up. Then she took his arm in the crook of her own and held it tightly. “Just follow my lead.”
He did as requested. When she stepped, he stepped. When she turned, he turned.
“How are we doing?”
“They’re still coming,” Gamay said. “Let’s go up to the gazebo.”
She turned and he followed, awkward but without stumbling.
“Crack in the pavement,” she said. “Lift your foot.”
He stepped over the trouble spot. He could see the outline of the gazebo up ahead.
“Stairs,” Gamay whispered.
He tried to move smoothly, but clipped his toe on the top edge of the first step. Stumbling again. She held him up a second time.
The men passed by them a few feet behind, remaining on the original path. He heard a bit of laughter. “Drunks,” one of them whispered.
They continued on through the park as he and Gamay made it into the gazebo, settling into a spot by the railing.
With the park quiet again, Paul refocused on the dockside.
He zoomed the camera in, checking out the Norwegians who were delivering the supplies and doing what he could to study the delivery.
“Considering the volume of supplies they’re taking aboard, they seem to be preparing for a long journey.
Maybe they’re going back to China. Hope that doesn’t mean they’ve found the plane. ”
“They wouldn’t be taking the time to reprovision if they had the laser,” Kurt said. “They’d be hightailing it out of here.”
Paul thought that made sense. He kept looking. Maneuvering the drone to different spots, changing camera angles. He saw nothing of interest, until a group of Chinese men came down the gangway and walked toward a black van that had just pulled onto the scene.
The leader of the Chinese group spoke to the driver through a half-opened window and then went around to the back, where he opened the rear doors.
Paul maneuvered the drone for a better view. He found no sign of anything inside.
“It’s empty,” he said.
The three men climbed inside.
“Looks like a pickup instead of a delivery,” he added.
Kurt’s voice came back with a pleased tone. “The Chinese aren’t known for letting their crew out on shore leave.”
Paul zoomed in on the back end of the van as the last man to climb in leaned over and pulled the doors shut. The brake lights went off and the van began to move.
“Follow that van,” Kurt said in a suddenly serious tone. “I want to know where it’s going.”
Paul made sure to keep the drone locked onto the van. He and Gamay exchanged glances. Both had noticed the change in Kurt’s voice, a shift that was rare and menacing at the same time. Something was definitely wrong.
In the control room on the Lyra, Kurt was on the edge of his seat, staring at the screen like a gargoyle perched on the wall looking down over the city. His face was a mask of stone, his eyes taut and squinting like a gunfighter in the hot sun at high noon.
He’d paused the image from the drone, run it back, and zoomed in on the Chinese man who had closed the door.
The freeze-frame caught the man in full lean as he reached for the open door.
The image was sharp, the zoom lens and the night optics delivering a better photo than Kurt could have taken with an expensive camera in broad daylight.
The Chinese man wore a red woolen hat. A few locks of black hair sprouted from the hat covering the man’s ears.
A square face, featuring wide cheekbones and a prominently cleft chin, stuck out beneath it.
A diagonal scar ran down from a spot near the right eye.
It stood out prominently in the illumination from the dockside floodlights.
Kurt knew that face and he knew the scar.
“Gushan.”
Joe recognized him, too. “Small world,” he said.
Kurt nodded. “It’s about to get a lot smaller.”