There, resting awkwardly on the ocean floor, was a shipping container. Not torn or rusted like others they usually recovered. It was intact and without any major damage. She leaned in, reading the structural shadows. “Crane teams, prepare for lift,” she said.
The mechanical claws extended and latched onto the container. The crew moved with perfect coordination, but as the lift began, the Solara jerked violently. The crane groaned under pressure. Katherine grabbed the rail.