Rain blanketed the small dock in Dutch Harbor. Most of the remaining passengers filed off the ship, through a metal gangway into the pitch black night. An assortment of vans and cars waited as makeshift shuttles, their headlights casting long shadows. The Unalaska school district had woken a bus driver in the middle of the night, and pressed their yellow bus into service. It idled at the dock, with a heavy diesel clatter, as bleary-eyed passengers climbed in. From there, it would ferry them to Tom Madsen airport. They would shelter against the weather and wait for a flight to Anchorage, and eventually home.

A small group of families gathered in huddled circles, bracing their shoulders against the wind. Around the dock, idling patrol cars lit the sky with red and blue strobes. The two ambulances lit their lights and sirens, driving away with the hiss of tires on wet concrete. They carried more wounded passengers from the explosion and staircase collapse on board. The small community hospital was full. Every doctor and nurse in driving reach had been roused from bed with a loud pager, and called to help. Patients with shrapnel injuries, ruptured eardrums, and concussions were laying in the hallways of the hospital, waiting for care. A few doctors among the passengers and the medical crew of the ship volunteered to help.

The two FBI vans circled the outside of the dock. Their headlights swept over the huddled families. A few passengers looked up, expectantly. The vans came closer and stopped. The doors opened with a creak, and two FBI agents opened the rear sliding doors. Children ran to their parents with open arms. Parents wept openly, and hugged their children tightly.

Juni ran to the crowd, and Annaliese swept her into a tight embrace. They both cried with relief. Juni's small shoulders shook with sobs. Annaliese smoothed her dark hair with her hand, and pressed her face against her shoulder.

A moment later, Juni pulled away and looked at Annaliese. "Where is my dad?"

Annaliese paused. Tears dripped from her face to her coat and mixed with the driving rain. "I'm so sorry. He tried to save you."

A complicated mix of despair and confusion spread across Juni's small face. "What do you mean? What happened?"

Annaliese leaned down and rested her forehead against Juni's. She couldn't bear to look her in the eyes. "He's gone."

—---------

Laura rode with an Unalaska PD officer through the dark night, back to the Cecaelia. She walked across the wet dock, and found Rohit on a metal gangway. She remembered meeting him the same way a week ago in Seattle. This meeting felt like the somber reflection of an entirely different world. The ship looked clean and fast and strong in the harbor in Seattle. Here, against the small dock in the middle of the night the bulk was out of place. She knew it held deceased passengers and crew, some crushed under the weight of a staircase, others maimed by shrapnel.

Wordlessly, Rohit nodded and they walked together up the gangway. Their shoes echoed on the hollow metal treads. The air smelled like cold sea water and wet pavement. They walked through an open door, and navigated the hallways to the crew elevator. Then, a short ride to the bridge.

The door opened to the bridge, with Helen framed front and center. Her eyes were curious and expectant. Laura and Rohit crossed the large space to join her. Behind, in the large bridge window, the sky was lit crimson by the fish processing plant still ablaze.

Helen scanned the two. "Is it over?"

Laura nodded. "One kidnapper died of blood loss, after I pursued him in the cargo area. One drowned fleeing the police in a small river. Another was shot by the river bank, and the last by the SWAT team. He was holed up in a commercial fishing shed on the outskirts of town."

The Unalaska police officer looked at Laura sideways. "She's not giving you the whole story. She's underselling it. She hunted the last kidnapper in the woods, swam across a freezing river to head him off, and took him on one-on-one."

Helen smiled. "That sounds like the Laura I know." Her eyes were tired, but filled with quiet pride. "I knew you wouldn't let them get away with shit."

Laura shook her head. "It could have easily gone the other way. This was a skin of your teeth thing."

"What about the kids? All accounted for?"

The police officer cleared his throat. "Yes. Eleven were examined by EMTs, and released to their families at the docks. Two are recovering at the local hospital. Both were dosed with sedatives. They're saying they should make a full recovery."

A few bridge officers had huddled around to hear the story. Helen scanned the group and continued. "Any news on the lifeboats?"

A bridge officer stepped forward. "We gave the GPS beacon data to the local emergency services and the Coast Guard. They have a cutter en route that will circle the area nearest each beacon and survey. Most of them have already landed where EMS can find them."

Helen nodded, and turned to the assembled crew. "Listen up, everyone. The danger is over, but our jobs aren't. We'll all have to be interviewed by the FBI and Coast Guard once this has all shaken out. I expect full cooperation and participation from everyone here. We are part of the investigation, and closure for these families. We owe it to them."

The group nodded, and many of them dispersed. Helen and Laura stayed.

Helen inclined her head and spoke softly. "Is this really over? Did we find everyone?"

Laura shook her head, a small movement. "No. We think the brains behind the operation, the brigadier, escaped by seaplane before the SWAT team arrived. He took the cash with him."

Helen scoffed. "Great. But the threat is over at least?"

Laura nodded.

Helen looked at Laura for a moment, quietly. "I'm worried, Laura. Between you and me. I feel terrible worrying about myself after everything that happened, but..." Her voice trailed off.

"This is going to be a mess to clean up." Laura finished her sentence. "But you're going to be okay." Laura pulled her into a close hug and patted her shoulder. "You've done everything you can."

"Thank you." Said Helen. She pulled away and dabbed her eyes.

Laura held her arm. "I mean it. You're going to be fine." She squeezed it once. "I'm going to go. I have someone I want to visit."

Laura walked out of the bridge, and found her way down to the medical center. It looked like an ordinary, small clinic. She asked the receptionist for the morgue, who was all too happy to oblige the serious looking woman in tattered clothes and an FBI windbreaker.

Laura walked down a small, fluorescent lit hallway and opened an unmarked door at the end. Inside, the brightly polished tile floor reflected the overhead lights. A row of stainless steel doors lined one wall, and an employee in scrubs and a cruise line badge stood in front. He looked her up and down curiously and asked, "How can I help?"

"I'm here to visit Brian Park."

He nodded. He walked to one stainless steel door, and opened the heavy latch with a clunk. Chill air rolled out of the door with a swirl of foggy condensation. He wheeled a stainless steel shelf out on small smooth rollers. Brian's body was cold and still, the gunshot wounds dry and brown.

Laura walked forward, and looked at his quiet, lifeless face. His skin had lost the glow and life that had drawn her to him. It was pale and gray. His eyes were closed. She touched his cheek softly, and started to cry. For his life cut short, for the time they lost, and for Juni's life without a father.

—---------

A week later, Laura opened the door to her house in Seattle. She had spent days of grueling taped interviews in small FBI conference rooms in Anchorage. She had wrapped her hands around a paper cup of stewed office coffee and tried to endure. She had spent years on the other side of the table, and knew what it was like. She replayed everything, from the casino heist to the insubordination by Brian and Danilo, and the pursuit off the ship. It was tense, and uncomfortable. The sight of her quiet living room brought a rush of comfort and relief.

She rolled her aluminum suitcase by her coffee table, set down her purse, and turned around to check her small mailbox by her front door. It was filled to the brim. She pulled the bent enveloped out, carried them to her kitchen, and tossed them on the empty countertop. They fanned out in a loose pile. One caught her eye. It was lettered in a child's handwriting. She opened the small envelope, and unfolded the drawing paper inside.

A colored pencil drawing of a rainbow and a yellow sun greeted her. Underneath it, a message read:

Thank you for saving me

-Juni

Laura stood holding the note for a moment. She opened a drawer, found some tape, and taped it to the front of her fridge. She stood back and smiled.