Dallas and Jackson hit the end of the gangway. The tarped boat rocks hard in its slip, and a figure on deck jerks a flashlight toward them. From behind, the tearing metal keeps coming closer.

Dallas drives forward, boots skidding on wet boards, Murderbone low at his side. The tarp stirs near the bow, and a second shape moves inside the cabin like it has been waiting for the alarm.

Jackson spots a dock manifest clipped to a piling, half-hidden under salt spray. The top line shows Pier Nine, private slip, and a clerk stamp Dallas has seen before, the same cleaner's mark that kept Bell's trail alive.

Murderbone lunges toward the deck rail as the cabin door cracks open. Dallas sees a gray-coated figure inside the tarped boat, face turned away, reaching for the engine controls. The last step to Voss is right here, and it is trying to slip the harbor.

Dallas cuts the deckman low and hard, slamming him into the wet planks. The flashlight skitters away, beam spinning across the fog.

Murderbone crashes into the rail beside him, snapping the guard's balance off the edge of the slip. The man grabs for wood, but Dallas is already on him.

Jackson surges past the piling, shoulder first, driving toward the gray coat inside the cabin. The figure inside jerks back from the engine controls.

Dallas wrenches the guard's wrist down and traps him against the deck. A clipped badge and a brass key tag spill free into the saltwater sheen.

Inside the boat, the gray-coated figure freezes at Jackson's grip on their sleeve. The engine remains off, but the berth is no longer theirs.

The deckman gasps under Dallas's weight, then blurts toward the cabin, "Don't let them take the envelope."