You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

4:30 a.m.

"Captain, the pilot has boarded." First Mate Sun Bin put down the walkie-talkie and reported to the captain.

"Notify the engine room to prepare the engines. Tell the tugboat to come ashore." Captain Zhao Jian picked up the microphone and gave the departure order.

Outside the bridge, the massive main diesel engine emitted a deep roar, causing the entire deck to tremble slightly.

Two powerful harbor tugboats braced against the side of the cargo ship, and the sailors on deck began to skillfully untie the thick ropes fixed to the mooring bollards on the shore.

Captain Zhao Jian looked at the busy figures wearing reflective vests on the deck. They were mostly Filipino and Indian crew members, while the lower deck cabins were filled with ordinary crew members from the East.

This is the best cover for the ship.

Although the actual investor and operator of this giant ship is a large state-owned enterprise in the East, it flies the Panamanian flag at its stern.

In the international shipping industry, this is called a flag of convenience.

To avoid taxes, reduce employment costs, and circumvent complex shipping regulations in some countries, a large number of merchant ships worldwide are registered in Panama or Liberia.

When faced with a Panamanian-flagged cargo ship carrying crews from multiple countries, U.S. Customs will naturally not be overly vigilant as long as the customs declaration is in order.

Moreover, on the high seas, the captain has absolute supreme command authority.

Those foreign crew members were paid to do their jobs, and even if the captain ordered the hold to be sealed off for several days, not a single foreign sailor would dare to ask a single question.

"The tugboat is released; the pilot is preparing to disembark."

An hour later, the cargo ship's massive hull had completely sailed out of the narrow waterway of Puget Sound.

As the pilot boat approached and took away the pilot, the cargo ship's engine was pushed forward four steps.

The waves on the sea grew larger, and the dark seawater pounded against the bow of the ship.

"Sun Bin, keep an eye on the chart." Captain Zhao Jian stared at the ECDIS (Electronic Chart Display and Information System) in front of him.

Under international maritime law, the territorial sea is actually very narrow, extending only 12 nautical miles outward from the territorial sea baseline, which is about 22 kilometers.

For an ocean-going freighter with a speed between 15 and 20 knots, as long as it leaves the harbor and sails at full speed in a straight line for an hour or two, it can completely cross this invisible national border.

The GPS coordinates on the screen moved smoothly.

When the green cursor representing the ship's position completely crossed the dotted line marking the boundary of U.S. territorial waters and entered the contiguous zone and high seas, First Officer Sun Bin's tense shoulders finally relaxed completely.

Once you reach this point, the U.S. Coast Guard and Customs completely lose their jurisdiction to board and enforce the law.

"We've gone out. We're in international waters."

First Mate Sun Bin turned his head and looked at Captain Zhao Jian:

"Walk."

Captain Zhao Jian put down his teacup and picked up a set of spare keys from the control panel.

"Hand the driver over to the second mate. You come with me to the lowest level, cold storage room number two."

"We need to find those two old gentlemen as soon as possible."

"They've been inside for almost three hours. Although the wooden crate was lined with polyurethane insulation, the outside is still a cold storage room with temperatures below -10 degrees Celsius."

First Officer Sun Bin picked up a crowbar and strode towards the stairs to the cockpit.

"Indeed, they're so old, if we don't get them out soon, they'll freeze to death."

The two descended the narrow metal gangway, passed through the intricate cabin corridors, and arrived at the heavy insulated door of the No. 2 cold storage room.

Pushing open the door, a chilly atmosphere of minus ten degrees Celsius mixed with white mist rushed out, and the cold storage was filled with hundreds and thousands of identical cardboard boxes and wooden rafts.

The two spent some time carefully checking the labels in the maze-like pile of goods by the beam of their flashlights, and finally found the two extra-large wooden crates labeled "Premium Frozen Pork Ribs" in the innermost part against the wall.

"These are the two."

First mate Sun Bin stepped forward, inserted one end of the crowbar into the gap in the top of the wooden crate, and pressed down hard.

With a few ear-piercing cracks of wood splitting and the creaking of nails being pulled out, the heavy roof was lifted off.

Inside the insulated wooden crate, old Bill and Arthur were huddled together, wrapped in heavy military winter clothing.

Both men had a thin layer of frost on their eyebrows and beards, their lips were purple from the cold, and their bodies were still shivering involuntarily. However, when they saw the flashlight beam and two Eastern faces, their eyes were still clear, and their overall condition was relatively normal.

"Come out, you two, you're safe now."

Captain Zhao Jian reached out and pulled the two old men, who were somewhat stiff from the cold, out of the wooden box.

To avoid the Indian and Filipino sailors who were resting on the deck and in the lower cabins, Zhao Jian and Sun Bin led them through an internal maintenance passage that only senior crew members had keys to, and after many twists and turns, they arrived at a separate cabin on the middle level of the superstructure.

Pushing open the door, I found the cabin was already fully heated.

Although the room was small, it was fully equipped with two single beds, a private bathroom, and a table and chairs. There were also two thermos flasks filled with hot water on the table.