“They fall into three categories.” Musil moved his finger down to the wide yellow block of data running from the middle to the bottom of the page. Then flipped to the second page, which was entirely yellow. “All these names belong to members of the voyage crew. They’re the majority of the ship’s personnel. About forty people under short-term contract with the company. Divers, cable and freight handlers, engineer assistants, repairmen, boarding agents, maintenance workers...”

“Jot, skip the movie credits.” Harris wound his hand. “I’ve got me an appointment downtown in an hour.”

Musil nodded. Harris was definitely acting more like his old self.

“The second group of contract employees would be the scullery and mess hands. The ship’s kitchen staff, food servers and dishwashers.”

He flipped to the third page and tapped a single green line at the top. The right column read The Seven Winds Group. There were no individual personnel listings or dates of employment in the second or third columns.

Harris looked at him. “So the kitchen’s run by a third party?”

“It’s outsourced, yes,” Musil said. “I estimate there are a dozen staffers.”

“No names?”

“Not yet.”

“But you already contacted this Seven Winds outfit.”

“Yes. There’s a corporate office in San Francisco.”

“And they’re giving you names?”

“They say they’re working on it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Musil shrugged. “They’re a transnational company. The M&S staff, as they call it...that stands for Mess and Scullery—”

“No shit. Let’s hustle it up,” Harris cut in, glancing at his wristwatch.

“Yes, sir,” Musil said. “The M&S staff doesn’t stay on board the entire five-month cruise. They rotate. Usually, replacements come aboard each time the ship enters a port for refuel, reload and maintenance.”

“Do we know where the Stalwart pulled in before it disappeared? And when?”

“Not yet.”

Harris pretended to look around. “Am I hearing echoes?”

Musil adjusted himself in his chair. “Sir, CloudCable’s HR department claims to have no information about the ship’s itinerary,” he said. “But Seven Winds does have an employee database. It would tell us when its kitchen personnel rotated, at what harbors and onto which vessels. We can find out about the Stalwart’s port calls. Their times and dates. And of course, the names of the kitchen staff. But their personnel files aren’t centralized. The US office has to contact its overseas branches and wait for them to answer. It’s a process.”

“That’s for damn sure.” Harris exhaled. “All right. What else?”

Musil flipped to the last sheet of paper. The five rows were highlighted in blue.

“These are the rest of the crew members,” he said. “All are listed as special advisers. There are no job descriptions. No hiring dates.”

Harris studied the printout a second. Then looked at Musil.

“What’s that tell you?”

“I would guess they’re CIA and NGIA.”