Chapter 8 - THE CAMERA THAT WENT DARK
At 12:06 a.m., Ortiz received the first truly bad news.
The camera outside my honeymoon cabin had gone offline for nine minutes earlier that evening.
Not malfunctioned.
Disabled.
Someone with administrative access had manually cut the feed from 10:52 until 11:01.
That included the period when Gregory retrieved the bat.
Another camera covering the service corridor behind our cabin had been disabled too.
Someone onboard was helping the Hartmans.
Ortiz ordered an audit of every employee account capable of accessing surveillance.
One name appeared twice.
Victor Dane.
Assistant director of passenger services.
I remembered him from boarding.
He had personally greeted Gregory.
Mr. Hartman.
Welcome aboard.
If you need anything, anything at all, call me directly.
At the time, I had assumed Gregory was simply an important customer.
Now the interaction felt different.
Victor’s staff badge was traced.
He had entered a restricted security office at 10:49 p.m.
He left at 11:03.
Three minutes later, he used a crew elevator to reach Deck Eight.
His badge showed another access at 11:12.
Cabin 8142.
Elaine’s room.
“He was inside here?” I asked.
She looked horrified.
“I was hiding in the bathroom around then.”
Victor had not been searching for Elaine.
He had been searching the room.
For documents.
For Celia’s button.
For whatever evidence Elaine had brought aboard.
Ortiz immediately sent officers to locate him.
His cabin was empty.
His uniform was gone.
His phone had been abandoned beneath the mattress.
Then an alert came from the bridge.
A crew-only exterior door had opened on Deck Five.
Ortiz swore.
We watched the live surveillance feed.
Victor appeared on camera carrying a black backpack.
He moved toward a maintenance section near the lifeboats.
“Why would he go there?” I asked.
Ortiz’s expression hardened.
“Because there are blind spots.”
We followed from the security center as officers closed in.
Victor disappeared behind a stairwell.
Then the screen went black.
Every camera on Deck Five failed simultaneously.
Ortiz grabbed her radio.
“Dane has access to the system.”
A voice crackled back.
“We lost him.”
Seconds later, the ship’s lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then returned.
An alarm began sounding in a restricted area below us.
Victor had triggered a fire suppression fault near the electrical control room.
Not enough to endanger the ship.
Enough to create chaos.
Enough to move security officers away from Martin and Gregory.
Ortiz immediately checked their confinement feeds.
Martin was still in his suite.
Gregory’s camera showed an empty room.
The chair where he had been sitting was overturned.
May you like
The security officer outside lay unconscious in the corridor.
And Gregory Hartman was gone.
