Jamie’s elbow clipped the throttle, and his lower back struck something hard—a bright red switch stamped with bold black letters: AUX EMERGENCY.

The effect was instant. A deafening siren ripped through the cabin, a banshee wail that made the metal vibrate. All five pirates recoiled, flinching against the sudden noise.

Shouts erupted in their language, sharp and panicked. The seaplane gave a sluggish roll to port, the shift in balance enough to send one pirate stumbling into the open cargo crate.

A smaller box tumbled free, smashing to the floor with a metallic crack. It burst open, spilling a scatter of precision-packed contents—sleek silver cases, bundles of electronics, fragments of hardware skittering and spinning across the deck like loose coins in a storm.