Minutes later, the static hissed again. A different voice this time—rough, halting, broken English. “Give… exact location. Repeat.” Ethan frowned, exchanging a quick glance with Liam. He repeated the coordinates carefully, then added, “Confirm you received.” Only silence followed. He waited. Nothing. Finally, he shrugged it off, though unease lingered.
The hours stretched thin. With the sail useless, the boat drifted wherever the current pleased. Liam paced the deck, glancing at his cases as though checking they hadn’t disappeared. Then something flickered in the corner of his vision—a dark shape sliding out from behind a ridge of land. At first he thought it was the Coast Guard.