“This is the Romanov collection,” the Captain whispered, his voice trembling. “This was stolen in 1917.”
But how was it here? And why was the room set up like someone had just finished dinner?
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A half-full glass of wine sat next to a plate of fresh—too fresh—fruit.
This container didn’t fall off a ship. It was hidden.
Then, Miller pointed to the floor. There were wet footprints leading to the back corner.
The Shadow in the Corner
“Show yourself!” the Captain shouted, his flashlight beam cutting through the gloom.