Jon Marrick
Twenty years ago he buried his father without a body to bury. Tonight, an old radio gave him back his voice.
People looking for something. Not always the same thing, and rarely for the same reasons.
Twenty years ago he buried his father without a body to bury. Tonight, an old radio gave him back his voice.
He vanished in the Atlantic twenty years ago, on an expedition. Officially, he is dead.
She opens what everyone else calls sealed. She works alone because she trusts no one. Yet.
She keeps evidence of the shipwreck in Lisbon. And a sentence she has not said for twenty years.
He is convinced that whoever controls a certain power will prevent the wars to come. The worrying part is that he means it.
Pragmatic and dangerous. He lives by his own code, and it is not written in any contract.
A black compass on the badge and orders not to ask questions. They see what is in front of them; behind them is another story.