Chapter 12 - The Manifest
By midnight, Whitmore Thermal resembled a federal command center.
State investigators occupied the conference room. Deputies guarded every entrance. Rafe's security team patrolled the rail yard while Marcus sat at Arthur Whitmore's old drafting table decoding Victor's seized documents.
Eleanor refused to leave.
Rafe had tried twice.
She had ignored him twice.
On the third attempt, he placed a cup of coffee beside her and surrendered.
"You're impossible."
"You married me."
"Under unusual circumstances."
"You should have read the warranty."
A reluctant smile tugged at the unscarred corner of his mouth.
It vanished when Marcus approached.
"I broke the shipping code."
He spread several documents across the desk.
Victor had been routing containers through a network of legitimate companies stretching from Savannah to western North Carolina. Most appeared to carry industrial components.
They didn't.
Marcus tapped a sequence of container numbers.
"These arrived at Wilmington three nights ago. Their customs descriptions say agricultural pumps."
"And actually?" Eleanor asked.
"We don't know yet."
Rafe did.
His face changed.
"The same classification Victor used two years ago."
Marcus nodded.
Silence fell.
Eleanor remembered what Rafe had told her on the terrace.
Forty-two trafficking victims.
People locked inside shipping containers.
"How many containers?" she asked.
"Six."
Her stomach turned.
"Where are they going?"
Marcus pointed at the railway diagram.
"Victor planned to transfer them tomorrow night at an abandoned textile depot outside Marion. From there, trucks would carry them north."
Rafe reached for his phone.
"We send everything to the federal task force."
Marcus caught his wrist.
"There's a problem."
Rafe looked at him.
"The documents prove suspicious routing, not what's inside. Victor's organization has people at the depot. If law enforcement moves too early and word leaks, he'll divert the train."
Eleanor studied the rail map.
Arthur Whitmore had taught her those lines when she was a child.
"You said the train uses Whitmore's eastern spur."
Marcus nodded.
"Temporarily."
"Then Victor doesn't control where it goes."
Both men looked at her.
Eleanor leaned over the diagram.
"The eastern spur joins Southern Industrial Track Nine here. The switching system is old, but Whitmore Thermal still holds emergency priority because we transport pressurized industrial equipment."
Rafe understood.
"You can reroute the train."
"Not remotely. The system predates digital controls."
"Where's the switch?"
"Seven miles outside Black Mountain."
Marcus frowned.
"Victor will have guards."
"Probably."
Rafe's answer came instantly.
"No."
Eleanor looked at him.
"No?"
"You're not going anywhere near that rail switch."
"Rafe—"
"Absolutely not."
She stood.
"I know the mechanism."
"So does Thomas."
"Thomas has a wife, four grandchildren, and arthritis."
"And you are my wife."
The room went quiet.
Eleanor's expression hardened.
"That isn't an argument."
"It is to me."
"Then it's a bad one."
Rafe stared at her.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Marcus quietly gathered two files and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Rafe demanded.
"To become temporarily deaf."
The door shut behind him.
Eleanor folded her arms.
"You told me I wasn't a pawn."
"You're not."
"You told me I could defend what's mine."
"You can."
"Until you get scared?"
That hit him.
Rafe looked away.
Eleanor's voice softened.
"I know what Victor did to you."
His jaw flexed.
"I know what happened in that parking garage. I understand why you want to lock every door between me and danger."
"He put a bullet through my face."
"And you survived."
"Barely."
He looked at her again.
"I will not watch him hurt you."
"You might not get to decide that."
Pain flickered behind his eye.
Eleanor stepped closer.
"What you can decide is whether you stand beside me or in front of me."
Rafe said nothing.
She placed her hand against his chest.
"My whole life, Celeste called control protection. She chose my clothes because she was 'protecting' me from embarrassment. She controlled my money because she was 'protecting' me from mistakes. I know you're not her."
His expression tightened.
"Don't make me prove it."
The words landed heavily.
Rafe lowered his forehead against hers.
For a long moment, all Eleanor heard was his breathing.
Finally he whispered, "If we do this, you follow the operational plan."
"If the operational plan makes sense."
"Eleanor."
A smile touched her lips.
"That's the best offer you're getting."
He groaned.
"God help me."
"He already tried. You married me anyway."
This time Rafe actually laughed.
May you like
Then he wrapped one arm around her waist.
"Tomorrow night," he said, "we steal Victor's train."
