“Isn’t there a faster way?” Ned asked with frustration.

“You must relax,” Mr. Yip said. “Consider the job done.”

Even the Aberdeen Tunnel was crowded at that time of day. As they got out of the tunnel, the south shore proved equally congested. It was stop-and-go traffic all the way to Aberdeen.

Tristan was frantic. He could hardly sit still, looking at his watch every few minutes. In contrast, Marissa sat immobile, staring blankly ahead. Her mind was in a turmoil as her emotional numbness was beginning to wear thin. She was thinking of Robert and the better times they’d had. Not only did she feel responsible for his death, to a large degree she felt responsible for the rough months before it. Tears began to well in her eyes. She averted her head to keep Tristan from seeing. Except for a powerful apathy that overwhelmed her, she would have asked if they could turn around.

On top of her emotional pain, Marissa also began to fear going out on the open sea, worrying that she might get seasick to add to her problems. During the ride out to the junk in the motorized sampan, Marissa again considered demanding they go back. The sound of the water and the thought of the ocean not only made her queasy but also brought back the memory of Wendy’s death with stark vividness.

“Good show!” Tristan exclaimed as they rounded the row of junks and saw that Captain Fa-Huang had not yet departed. The sampan pulled alongside the receiving port.

Marissa saw that the captain had company. A couple of fierce-looking Chinese men were standing at the railing on the poop deck, watching their arrival with interest.

Grabbing Tristan’s arm, Marissa pointed. “Who are those men?” she asked. “They look like bandits.”

“Dunno,” Tristan said. “Must be the crew.”

Bentley scrambled up into the opening, then turned to lend a hand. Tristan handed up the boxed lunches and the bottled water.

“Okay, luv,” Tristan said taking Marissa’s arm.

With a boost from Tristan and a pull from Bentley, Marissa found herself aboard the junk.

Once on the boat, they went forward and climbed the ladder to the main deck. The captain bellowed a greeting and introduced them to Liu and Maa, the two deckhands. Everyone bowed. Then the captain yelled a command and the men fell back to work.

The junk was in the final stages of preparation. Even the two women that Marissa had seen earlier were occupied. They were busy lashing down a cage containing four live chickens.

Within fifteen minutes of their arrival, the mooring lines were cast off the junk. With much straining the boat was eased out of its berth by sheer muscle power. Once in the channel, the captain fired up his twin diesels. Soon the boat was pulsating with the deep, throaty vibration of its engines, and slowly the ponderous craft chugged out of the congested harbor.