When Bai Zhu and Piyu's vehicle left the harbor, Morel was still standing by the ship's rail.
A telephoto lens atop the port authority building was trained on the cruise ship. It occasionally adjusted its angle, keeping the stern and several passenger cabin windows under surveillance.
Three Purple Smoke Soldiers moved along their preset routes.
Ging's Smoke Soldier returned to its room and drew the curtains. There was no more movement inside.
Milluki's Smoke Soldier sat in the restaurant holding a game console. After losing two rounds, it cursed a few times using prerecorded lines.
Gela Jiang's Smoke Soldier had already ordered a second round of drinks from the waiter. Its laughter carried across two decks.
The people watching did not grow suspicious.
Morel returned to his room, packed his familiar pipe into a metal case, and snapped three locks shut.
Everyone at sea knew that thing. Taking it to the underground market would be like writing One-Star Sea Hunter across his forehead.
Besides, no fighting was likely to happen for the time being. Carrying it would only hinder the intelligence gathering ahead.
He changed into an old jacket and soft-soled shoes, then took a box of premium cigars from the cabinet. He distributed several stacks of cash among his inner pocket, trouser pockets, and waist pouch. Even if someone picked one pocket clean, it would not stop him from doing business.
Half an hour later, the bartender at a harbor hotel accepted two large-denomination Jenny bills.
The bartender tucked the money beneath a coaster and lowered his head to wipe a glass.
"The Drainage District in Old City. An abandoned ice factory."
"What time?"
"It only opens below after the fish market closes in the afternoon."
"What do they sell?"
"Military surplus equipment, all kinds of passes, transport records.