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The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, trapping the suffocating tension inside. Richard’s hands were shaking as he clutched the small, tarnished silver pendant. His knuckles were bone-white. / Chapter 23 / 30

Chapter 23 - The Ghost Ship DockAccording to the metadata embedded in Marcus’s video file, the transmission originated from an abandoned private shipyard located off the rugged coastline of Gloucester, north of Boston.

By midnight, my private security detail had cordoned off the rusted, fog-shrouded piers. I stepped out of the black armored SUV, the crisp ocean wind whipping my hair around my face. I wore a heavy black wool coat, my mother’s silver necklace gleaming against the fabric.

"Secure the perimeter," I instructed the lead tactical officer. "No one leaves this dock."

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The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply against the gold-rimmed porcelain of my dinner plate.

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply agains...

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a muffled, expensive thud.

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a...

Vanessa’s eyes were dry, clear, and sharp. She looked around the library as if measuring the dimensions for a redesign.

Vanessa’s eyes were dry, clear, and sharp. She looked around the library...

We pushed open the heavy rusted doors of Warehouse 42. Inside, instead of empty crates, the cavernous space was lit by glowing blue computer banks. Stacks of high-frequency communication gear hummed loudly in the damp air.

And sitting at the center console, spinning around slowly in a leather chair, was a middle-aged man with my grandfather’s piercing eyes and a cold, calculating smile.

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