Spray burst in white arcs as Noah coaxed a little more speed from the engines, angling the nose east—anything to widen the gap between them and the oncoming boats.

In the back, the cargo harness groaned with each jolt, the straps biting into the metal frame as the contents shifted. Jamie’s gaze flicked over his shoulder.
“They don’t know what we’re carrying… right?”

Noah stayed silent, eyes locked ahead, hands steady on the controls. He didn’t need to answer. The weight of what lay strapped in the rear compartment spoke for itself.

The seaplane surged forward with the awkward determination of a fridge trying to swim. The floats slapped the swells with punishing force, each impact sending a shudder through the fuselage. The engines strained, coughing now and then, fighting to keep the nose just far enough east to matter.