Page 108 of Freeing Lark

Silence settled over the room. Lark’s fingers slipped into Hoot’s. He squeezed them and thought of everything they’d uncovered. The crates. PSG. And now a manifest trail leading through waterways and within striking distance of Bell Creek.

It was no longer a theory. They’d stumbled onto part of something much bigger.

Haley wasn’t finished. “SIBYL found another interesting pattern.” She brought up a series of dates. “Every six months, the company listed on the shipping records goes dark for several weeks. No normal transactions. No employee activity. No shipments.”

“Just like Calloway,” Voodoo remarked. “Can’t be a coincidence.”

“And then?” Flint asked.

“Everything resumes.”

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Jeeves said with a sarcastic scoff.

“Very.” Baker nodded.

“We think the company is being used as a front. Weapons, classified technology, possibly intelligence materials. The shipments disappear during those blackout periods and reappear under different manifests.”

The pieces were beginning to fit together. Everything they’d learned before, and now a shipping network that seemed designed to make illegal cargo disappear.

“Can SIBYL trace the other manifests?” Hoot asked.

Haley smiled without humor. “Already doing it.” More information populated on her screen. “And it gets worse.”

“Of course it does,” Eggs muttered.

Haley highlighted several shipments. “These manifest numbers connect to at least six other shipments. Different companies. Different ports. Same financial signatures. Same altered documentation.”

Hoot looked at Flint. “PSG?”

“Not directly,” Haley said. “But there are enough overlapping connections to make me uncomfortable.”

“They’re definitely moving weapons through the waterways.” Voodoo stated what they all knew in their guts to be the truth.

Baker nodded. “That would explain the crates.”

“And the island,” Hoot said.

Everyone went quiet. Lark looked at him. “They’re using the island as a temporary transfer point.”

“Exactly.”

Haley leaned closer to her screen. “SIBYL is finding additional locations now. But there’s something else you need to see.”

A shipping manifest replaced the photograph. At first glance, it looked like another maze of company documents, cargo codes, and transfer information. Each page featured a distinctive logo in the upper right-hand corner: a stylized ‘W’ artfully superimposed on a globe. Hoot scanned it, not immediately recognizing it.

“Who’s the consignee?” Flint asked.

Before Haley could answer, Lark leaned forward, then gasped. “Whitmore,” she whispered.

Everyone went silent. Hoot turned toward Lark, studying her face. She was staring at the screen as though she'd just seen a ghost. “What?”

“That logo.” She pointed toward the upper corner of the manifest. “It’s Whitmore Global Holdings.”

Through the computer screen, Flint regarded her. “You sure?”

Lark gave a short, humorless laugh. “I’d better be. I spent years looking at it.”

Hoot watched her expression shift as memories surfaced. He knew enough about the Whitmores now to understand what that meant. Lark had spent years moving through their world, from galas and charity events to foundation dinners and corporate functions. She must have seen that damned logo everywhere.