Today’s manifest included just three cargo crates, each one sealed and strapped tight in the hold. Labeled with international transport tags and security markings, the contents were marked confidential, but the paperwork hinted at high-value satellite components—lightweight, expensive, and rare.
The flight had started out smooth—calm skies, open sea, nothing but gentle chatter between two men who had flown together long enough to trust each other with their lives. Jamie had been marking the milestone in his mind: flight number one hundred. The kind of flight that felt routine. Safe.