We had left the cabin in the valley three days ago when the call came in.
The Marlin was moving east through flat gray water. The sky looked the same. No sun. Just cold light sitting on everything. Borealis was downstairs with his screens, trying to line up the Odyssey coordinates with satellite maps. Caiman stood at the front of the boat, watching pieces of ice drift past. Kenji sat near the rail, running a cloth over his knife again and again.
I was just there. Not thinking. Not really.
The sat phone buzzed.
A different number. Not our usual line. Secure. The kind that erases itself after.
I answered.
“Jax.” Mikal. His voice was tight. Not shaky. Just tight. “You need to hear this.”
He didn’t explain. Just pushed the audio through.
Static.
Then a man’s voice. Calm. Almost bored.
