The cargo ship is waiting exactly where Viktor said it would be.

Twenty miles from shore. Dark. Silent. Flying a Liberian flag.

No questions asked. No names required. No records kept.

The perfect escape for people who officially don't exist anymore.

"Friends of yours?" Aria asks as they approach.

"Business associates," Viktor replies.

"What kind of business?"

"The kind that helps people disappear."

"For how much?"

"Everything we have."

"And then?"

"And then we start over."

The transfer happens ...