That made it worse for Kane.
They simply stated what they had seen.
Facts accumulated faster than intimidation could erase them.
The deck officer finished reading the authorization.
“Open the compartment.”
Kane stepped in front of the door.
“Absolutely not.
That cargo is classified.”
“Then the classification authority will be documented in the manifest.”
“You don’t understand what you’re interfering with.”
“Then explain it.”
Kane opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
The security sailor entered the override sequence from the NCIS packet.
The electronic lock beeped.
The steel door released with a heavy mechanical clunk.
Nobody moved for a second.
Then the door swung inward.
The first row of pallets looked almost ordinary.
Shrink-wrapped cases.
Military shipping frames.
Portable equipment containers stacked from deck to overhead.
But the markings told the story.
Even before anyone began comparing serial numbers, I recognized the color bands used on emergency-response shipments.
Water purification cartridges.
Medical cases.
Portable generators.
Boxes of antibiotics and field-treatment supplies.
Disaster-relief material.
None of it was supposed to be there.
According to the official cargo record, those supplies had already been unloaded and transferred to regional response depots.
According to the physical compartment in front of us, they had never left the Resolute.
Behind the first pallets were replacement cargo labels, unused seals, and shipping paperwork prepared for another transfer.
Kane stared into the compartment.
Then he made his worst mistake.
“Those pallets were held back because the receiving depot couldn’t secure them.”
I looked at him.
The deck officer did too.
That explanation had not appeared anywhere in the official record.
Kane had just admitted he knew the supposedly transferred cargo was still aboard.
“Which depot?” I asked.
He turned on me.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Name it.”
“You have no idea what you’re looking at.”
“Then help us.
Which depot refused the shipment?”
He pointed toward the door.
“Get her out of here.”
Nobody moved.
For a man who had spent days giving commands that were obeyed before he finished speaking, the silence must have felt impossible.
The deck officer lifted the radio.
“Secure this compartment.
Nobody enters or removes anything.
Preserve the cargo records and bridge communications logs.
Notify investigative authority that the compartment identified in their authorization has been opened.”
