Chapter 44 - The Ghost Fleet of Leith
An hour before dawn, the small group emerged through a storm sluice onto the deserted industrial docks of Leith. The North Sea wind whipped against their soaked garments, but Daniel had already located a secure communications relay inside an abandoned marine surveyor's office.
Using a shortwave satellite transponder, Daniel tapped into a secure military frequency. Within twelve minutes, a nondescript trawler slipped silently out of the morning sea fog, docking without running lights against the splintered pier.
A scarred man in heavy nautical oilskins emerged from the wheelhouse, nodding silently to Daniel. "The perimeter in Edinburgh is crawling with private security forces, Commander. The airports and train stations have biometric sweeps running under European arrest warrants. Someone with diplomatic credentials flagged your passports as international fugitives."
"Evelyn," Emma said flatly as they boarded the vessel. "She’s cutting off every border."
Inside the heated cabin, wrapped in dry wool blankets, Eleanor plugged her silver drive into the trawler’s hardened tactical laptop. The screen flashed alive with thousands of classified files bearing the Laurent crest.
"Evelyn didn't just take Thorne’s master keys," Eleanor revealed, pointing to a cascading map of international capital transfers. "She has summoned the High Council of the Syndicate. They are convening tonight in London at the St. Jude's Banking House. She intends to liquidate the Laurent Sovereign Trust and redistribute its trillions across seventy offshore cartels."
"And if she liquidates it?" Emma asked, holding a mug of steaming black tea to Lily's lips.
"The money vanishes forever," Eleanor answered grimly. "And more importantly, the automated archive containing the identities of Arthur’s true murderers will be wiped. Arthur encoded the truth of your birth into the bedrock of that trust, Emma. If Evelyn executes the sovereign purge tonight, your lineage dies, and Lily will be hunted for the rest of her life."
Lily looked up from her cup, her small jaw set with an uncanny, royal stubbornness that mirrored the portraits of the Laurent dynasty. "We aren't going to let her have it, are we, Mom?"
May you like
Emma looked into the eyes of the daughter she had promised to protect at any cost. "No, Lily. We're going to London."
***
