Chapter 151

"My mind was a mess back then—I couldn't remember anything. But I remembered that diagram."

Victoria looked up at her. "If Alexander's mother is on this ship, she'd have to be locked in the lower deck. The upper levels are labs and sample storage..."

Isabella stared at the diagram. "Why give this to me?"

She'd assumed Victoria hated her guts.

Victoria pressed her lips together. "I owe you."

"You owe me a lot. But yeah, this diagram's useful. Thanks."

Victoria paused. "Be careful. Get one lock wrong on that ship and the whole thing goes on lockdown."

Four hours later, on the airport road. Alexander's last message came through: [They're on the ship.]

Isabella didn't dare respond—afraid it might expose him.

Oscar stayed at the safehouse while everyone else came with her. Four hours later they landed, and Octavia picked them up. The moment they got in the car, she said, "That ship took on supplies this afternoon. It'll be docked at least another forty-eight hours."

Isabella leaned back in her seat. "Forty-eight hours. That's enough."

Octavia yanked the wheel. "One problem—the hull's got shielding. Normal signals can't penetrate. Once you're on board, inside and outside can't communicate."

Isabella buckled her seatbelt. "So once we're in, we're on our own."

"Right. The lower deck has four independent access points, each with different clearance levels... If you want to rescue anyone, you'll need to take the captain's quarters first."

The safehouse was in an old apartment building not far from the port. From the window, you could just make out the ship's silhouette.

"The hull structure matches Victoria's diagram." Finnian pushed the tablet over. "There's definitely a sealed compartment on the lower deck, maintained at around sixty degrees."

"Cold, but just enough to keep people alert without being too active."

Isabella unfolded the diagram again. "What are the four locks?"

"Keycard... the last one's fingerprint plus vein scan dual verification."

Zachary whistled. "That fourth lock was probably set by Daphne herself. No one but her can open it."

"Then we take the captain's quarters first." Isabella said. "Get Daphne's clearance to bypass the fourth lock. If she's not on the ship—" she set down her pen "—we cut in from the outside."

Octavia added from the side, "She's not on the ship. She's still in Roland."

The room went quiet. Isabella capped her pen. "Then we cut in from outside."

Finnian zoomed in on the hull cross-section, pointing to the lower deck near the waterline. "This position is below the waterline—outer shell is reinforced steel plating. But the inner partition is standard marine-grade aluminum alloy. If we can breach this layer from outside, we can bypass all four locks and enter the compartment directly."

Zachary frowned. "What about water pressure after we breach the outer layer?"

"When docked at port, it's not in deep water." Finnian pulled up the port's depth readings. "Berth depth is around twenty feet—pressure's not too bad. Cut a hole about half a square meter in that aluminum layer and a person can squeeze through."

Isabella was silent for a few seconds. "How long?"

"With the right equipment, from outside to breaching the partition—about twenty minutes. But there's a problem. Outside that partition is a maintenance passage. The entrance is below deck level—you'd have to go through the engine room first."

"How many people in the engine room?"

Zachary answered for Finnian. "Usually one or two watchmen on duty. But if there's an alarm, the whole engine room seals."

Isabella folded the diagram and slipped it into her pocket. "I've got a way."

She didn't say what. But Zachary noticed the slight curve at the corner of her mouth—every time that appeared, someone was about to have a very bad day.

That night Isabella didn't sleep. She sat on the windowsill with binoculars, watching that ship. Not many lights on the hull—just a few upper-deck windows glowing warm, quiet as an ordinary cargo vessel. But she knew that in the sealed compartment below deck, Alexander was locked up with his long-missing mother.

At 2 a.m., Oscar sent an intercepted transmission: [Ship departing in forty-seven hours, destination open waters. All samples and living materials to be processed before departure.]

Isabella set her phone face-down on the table, staring at that silent silhouette outside the window. The "living materials" Daphne planned to process were probably Alexander and Mireille.

Forty-seven hours left. She unplugged her charging cable and headed downstairs to wake the others.

The operation was set for hour thirty-six. That night had no moon—just sparse port lights and distant searchlights from the container yard.

Isabella wore dark waterproof gear, tool bag clipped to her waist, standing in the shadows by the outer perimeter fence. Octavia stood beside her, gripping the signal jammer switch. Finnian and Zachary had already infiltrated near the supply passage on the ship's far side.

"Comms check." Finnian's voice came through the earpiece, low, with static.

"Clear." Isabella responded. Her gaze never left that ship. Two figures moved on the upper deck, unhurried—normal night patrol, not on alert.

Daphne probably hadn't received word that she'd reached the port yet. Or if she had, she didn't think Isabella could organize a boarding operation in thirty-something hours.

"Engine room passage confirmed clear." Zachary cut in. "Both watchmen are in the rest cabin—no one patrolling."

Isabella waited two minutes. The patrol figures on deck turned the corner around the cabin. She pressed her earpiece. "Go."

She and Octavia squeezed through a gap in the fence, moving along the shadows at the dock's edge.

No gangway lowered on the ship's side, but Zachary had installed magnetic climbing hooks beforehand. Isabella grabbed the lowest ring, body pressed against the icy hull as she climbed.

The sea wind was salty and sharp, gusting from the side.

At the second deck level she paused, confirming no footsteps overhead before continuing to flip over the railing and land in the deck shadows.

Octavia landed right behind her.

"Engine room entrance is port side, behind the second ventilation pipe." Zachary's voice. "Door's not electronically locked—regular mechanical lock. Once inside, go straight to the upper maintenance platform, then down two levels to the main engine room passage."

Isabella moved along the deck's edge.

Behind the second ventilation pipe was indeed an iron door, handle badly rusted, paint peeling in patches from sea wind and salt spray. She tested it—the lock was broken, opened with one twist.

Inside was an iron ladder leading down. Stepping on it produced faint metallic sounds.

She lightened her steps going down. The air grew stuffier, hotter. The low-frequency rumble of machinery came from below; she could feel faint vibrations through the floor.

The main engine room passage was wider than expected—pipes and conduits on both sides, leaving a person-width gap in the middle. The watchmen's rest cabin was at the far right end of the passage, snoring drifting out.

Isabella gestured to Octavia to guard the passage entrance. She continued forward herself, passing through the engine room to find the maintenance passage door Finnian mentioned on the far left. It was locked, but just a standard pin tumbler—she picked it in under ten seconds.

Behind the door was a narrow passage, just wide enough to move through sideways.

Fine water droplets condensed on the pipe walls. She pressed against them, walking about twenty paces as the passage began sloping downward.

After another dozen or so steps, an inset metal door appeared at the end. The door panel had no handle—just four circular sockets with smooth edges.

This was the outer partition of the lower deck compartment.