The Atlantic was a grey, churning beast beneath the hull of the Vesta, a rusted Russian trawler that looked like it belonged in a scrap yard rather than a high-stakes extraction. But for Silas and Selene, it was the only piece of land—or sea—that didn't belong to the Valerius Foundation.

As the fog of Gander faded into the distance, replaced by the jagged, mist-shrouded cliffs of St. Pierre, the reality of their situation finally settled.