The sea breeze outside the window gently stirred, and the mail ship had already sailed past the coastal town of Gravesend. The mouth of the Thames River suddenly widened here, and the vast blue sea was right in front of them.
In the upper cabin, Thomas Plunkett, the captain of the Police Intelligence Department's Ghost Team, slowly turned around. This once fit sharpshooter had put on weight, dressed in a loose grey wool suit, and had even less of his already thinning hair compared to three years ago. His shiny bald head glinted under the sunlight.
Plunkett first saluted Arthur by raising his hand, then awkwardly put down the brandy bottle he was holding with his left hand, and explained to Arthur: "Sir, you know, this has always been an old habit of mine. If I don't have a sip or two before a mission, my hands shake when I raise the gun."
