17. Rook
ROOK
Fire glowed beyond the mountains.
A dark column of smoke climbed into the snow-filled sky above the abandoned cannery inlet.
Rook ran toward the equipment bay.
“Reef and Falcon with me. Cobra, get anything we need for fire suppression and structural entry.”
Cobra grabbed two equipment cases.
“Already packed.”
Of course they were.
Sarah followed Rook.
He turned toward her.
“You’re staying here.”
“No.”
“The people who just attacked this harbor came to kill you.”
“And they destroyed the ship because of what was onboard.”
“I have seven operators trained for this.”
“And I know what evidence they were trying to erase.”
Rook stopped.
Snow collected in Sarah’s dark hair. Blood marked the sleeve of her jacket, though he couldn’t tell whether it belonged to her or one of the attackers.
Her gray eyes held his.
Steady.
Determined.
Infuriating.
He understood why she wouldn’t stay behind.
Understanding didn’t mean he liked it.
“You remain beside me.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“Tonight’s evidence suggests otherwise.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Rook stepped closer.
“You either stay beside me or you stay here.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Sarah nodded.
“Beside you.”
“Good.”
Sniper’s voice entered the radio.
“We’ll secure the prisoners and headquarters.”
“Maverick, help him. Shark stays inside with Fathom.”
“I heard that,” Shark said.
“You were supposed to.”
Cutter hurried toward them carrying a heavy coat and a shotgun.
“I’m coming.”
“Sam, your harbor was just attacked.”
“And my men are at that cannery.”
That ended the argument before it began.
Rook looked toward Sniper.
“You have command here.”
Sniper nodded. “Go.”
Cutter’s tug cut through the narrow northern channel.
Snow lashed the wheelhouse windows. Black water struck the hull as the vessel pushed toward the hidden inlet.
Rook stood beside Cutter.
The glow beyond the mountain grew brighter.
“How many of your people were working at the cannery?” he asked.
“Six.”
“Security?”
“Two armed men. The others were unloading cargo.”
“When did you last speak to them?”
“Twenty minutes before the explosion.”
Cutter tried the radio again.
“Cannery crew, respond.”
Static.
Nothing else.
Sarah stood behind Rook.
“The strike team knew about the inlet.”
Rook glanced toward her. “Only a handful of people knew where we moved the ship.”
“They didn’t need the exact location before tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“They could have tracked the tug after the harbor attack began.”
Cutter’s expression hardened.
“My tug has no active beacon.”
“It doesn’t need one. Satellite surveillance. Drones. A transmitter planted aboard the cargo ship.”
Reef opened the tracking scanner.
“I’ll check when we reach it.”
The tug rounded the mountain.
The Northern Star appeared through the storm.
Flames poured from the rear cargo section.
Smoke rolled across the deck.
The explosion hadn’t destroyed the entire ship, but fire was moving rapidly through the lower compartments.
The old cannery dock burned near the stern.
Cutter stared at it.
“My men.”
He pushed the tug harder.
Rook grabbed his radio.
“Fathom, any thermal signatures?”
“I have limited satellite visibility through the storm.”
“Give me what you have.”
A pause followed.
“Multiple heat sources aboard the ship. I can’t separate people from the fire.”
“What about the shoreline?”
“I see movement near the old processing building. At least five signatures.”
“Friendly or hostile?”
“Unknown.”
Cutter brought the tug alongside the northern dock, away from the worst of the flames.
Rook jumped onto the snow-covered boards.
Sarah landed beside him.
Reef and Falcon followed.
Cobra climbed off carrying enough equipment to concern everyone.
Cutter secured the tug before grabbing emergency breathing gear.
“Processing building first,” Rook ordered. “Find Cutter’s crew.”
They advanced along the shoreline.
The abandoned cannery loomed ahead. Broken windows reflected the flames. Smoke drifted through its collapsed roof.
Movement appeared inside.
Rook raised his rifle.
“Identify yourself!”
A man stumbled through the doorway.
One of Cutter’s dock supervisors.
Blood covered the side of his face.
Cutter ran to him.
“Elias.”
“We’re alive,” the man gasped. “All six of us.”
Relief moved through Cutter’s face.
“Where are the others?”
“Old refrigeration tunnel. We used it when the shooting started.”
“What shooting?”
“Four men came in from the southern ridge. They planted charges aboard the ship.”
Rook looked at the burning vessel.
“Did they leave?”
“Three did.”
“And the fourth?”
Elias pointed toward the processing building.
“Inside. Wounded.”
Reef and Falcon moved immediately.
Rook stopped them.
“Alive if possible.”
They entered through opposite doors.
A single gunshot sounded.
Then Reef’s voice entered the radio.
“Target secured. Leg wound. He’s alive.”
They finally had someone connected to the attack on the evidence ship.
“Bring him out.”
Cutter helped Elias toward the tug.
“What about the cargo?” Rook asked.
“We unloaded seventeen containers before the attack. Moved them into the underground storage rooms.”
“The hidden compartment?”
Elias shook his head.
“Those records were still onboard.”
Rook looked toward the ship.
Financial files.
Personnel reports.
Original manifests.
Evidence tying the network to Alan Madow and the mountain.
Fathom had copied the encrypted drives and photographed much of the material, but the physical documents remained important.
A digital file could be dismissed as manipulated.
Original records were harder to bury.
Cobra studied the flames.
“The engine-room fire hasn’t reached the hidden compartment yet.”
“Can we get inside?”
“Probably.”
Cutter looked at him. “Probably?”
“The optimistic answer is yes.”
“What’s the honest answer?”
Cobra smiled. “You wouldn’t like it.”
Rook removed his jacket and pulled on breathing equipment.
Sarah reached for a second set.
“No.”
She stared at him. “We already discussed this.”
“We discussed you coming to the inlet. We didn’t discuss entering a burning ship.”
“I know where the evidence compartment is.”
“So do I.”
“You don’t know which files matter.”
“Then tell me.”
“There isn’t time.”
Rook stepped closer.
Firelight moved across Sarah’s face.
“You just survived an assault by thirty-two men. You’re not walking into a burning cargo ship.”
Her chin lifted.
“Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“Tonight, you do.”
For one second, Rook thought she might shoot him.
Then Cutter handed Sarah a radio.
“You guide them from the dock. If they find the records, tell them what to remove first.”
Sarah glared at both men.
Rook lowered his voice.
“I need someone outside who understands the evidence if we don’t come back.”
The anger left her face.
She understood what he wasn’t saying.
If the ship collapsed, the truth still needed to survive.
Sarah accepted the radio.
“Ten minutes.”
Rook almost smiled. “You’re giving me a deadline?”
“After ten minutes, I’m coming in.”
“Fair enough.”
It wasn’t.
But it got her to stay outside.
Rook, Cobra, and Reef boarded the burning vessel.
Smoke filled the lower corridors.
Emergency alarms shrieked.
The deck shifted beneath Rook’s boots as another explosion sounded deep inside the ship.
“Secondary charge,” Cobra said.
“You said the compartment hadn’t been reached.”
“It hasn’t.”
“That sounded close.”
“Close is relative.”
They reached the false wall beneath the engine room.
Heat rolled through the corridor.
Cobra forced the damaged panel open.
Smoke poured from the hidden compartment, but the evidence boxes remained intact.
For now.
Sarah’s voice entered Rook’s earpiece.
“Financial ledgers first. Then personnel files and original mission records.”
Rook opened the first container.
Paper files.
Photographs.
Sealed envelopes.
Reef lifted two boxes.
Cobra took three.
“Four minutes,” Sarah warned.
“You’re enjoying this,” Rook said.
“No.”
“You sound like you are.”
“Three minutes and fifty seconds.”
Rook grabbed the remaining mission files.
Something inside one box caught his eye.
A personnel photograph.
A man in military uniform.
Young.
Confident.
The name beneath the image read:
COMMANDER WADE PARKER
Sarah’s brother.
Rook removed the file.
“Sarah.”
Silence answered.
Then her voice came carefully.
“What?”
“I found Wade’s personnel record.”
She stopped breathing.
Rook could hear the silence through the radio.
“Bring it,” she said.
Two words.
Barely controlled.
Rook secured the file beneath his vest.
“Moving out.”
They carried the evidence through the smoke.
The corridor ceiling groaned.
“Run,” Cobra ordered.
No one questioned him.
They reached the exterior deck seconds before part of the engine-room structure collapsed behind them.
Fire rolled into the passage.
Sarah stood near the gangway.
The moment Rook stepped onto the dock, her eyes dropped to the file beneath his vest.
He pulled it free.
She reached for it.
Their fingers touched.
Sarah froze.
The contact lasted only a second.
Still, Rook felt it.
So did she.
Then she took the file and held it against her chest.
“Is it complete?”
“I don’t know.”
Behind them, flames consumed the lower level of the Northern Star.
Cutter’s crew carried the recovered boxes toward the tug.
They had lost part of the evidence.
Not all of it.
More importantly, they had captured one of the men sent to destroy it.
Rook looked toward the prisoner.
“Get him to the warehouse.”
Sarah stared down at Wade’s file.
Her hands trembled.
Only slightly.
But Rook saw.
Whatever waited inside those pages might answer the question she had carried for five years.
Or it might give her an entirely new reason to be afraid.