Epilogue

 

Keeno sat with his black cowboy boots perched on the counter, while leaning back in the swivel chair. In his hand he held a paper coffee cup. He swirled the black brew while eyeing it with disgust.

‘Seriously?’ he began, tipping his head at Jake with an incredulous look on his face, ‘This is the best coffee you could find?’

Jake shrugged. ‘It’s six in the morning, and we’re sitting in the Montreal dockyard, what do you expect?’

The Tower, where they sat, was the colloquial name for a structure which resembled an air controller’s tower at any airport. In this case, it was the central hub which oversaw the Montreal shipping port, where thousands of shipping containers were loaded and unloaded from large boats every week.

The operator of the Tower, and his boss, the Port Authority, stood by, looking out the window.

The St. Lawrence Seaway extended, left to right, like a serpent. A multitude of giant cranes stood there, like massive robots, silhouetted against the backdrop of a gray clouded morning sky.

The cranes moved with incremental precision, along their tracks, negotiating the containers to and from the docked ship. It was a choreographed show, as complex as any Broadway theatrical. One where teams of trucks moved in and out, picking up their next containers, in what seemed a never-ending parade.

Two senior FBI officials stepped up next to where Keeno sat. One of them asked, ‘So let me get this straight,’ he began, ‘you guys are the ones responsible for this new system?’

Keeno nodded. ‘Well, not just us, but let’s just say that the RCMP used its influence to issue an ultimatum to the Port Authorities here. They were given two options. Install the sensors, or face a hefty fine for every traffic victim we found coming through their port. It was a compelling argument,’ he smirked.

They continued to watch on, as the large cranes scooped up and scanned each container, and then deposited them in preordained positions.

A beeping sound suddenly emitted from a nearby computer.

The Tower operator announced, ‘That’s the first one.’

The room was suddenly filled with anticipation, as everyone waited patiently for the rest of the containers to be unloaded from a ship which had just arrived from the Philippines.

They proceeded down to the shipping docks.

‘So basically,’ the same FBI agent engaged Keeno, ‘the system scans each container for any indication of a human heartbeat, and if it detects it, it tags the container and automatically places it in a special containment area?’

‘Right,’ answered Keeno. ‘The scanner system has already been successfully used at Canadian-American borders, to scan trucks, so it wasn’t like we had to reinvent the wheel.’

As they approached, a covey of both RCMP and FBI agents converged on two large metal containers. As the doors to the first container were opened, they were faced with stacks of cardboard boxes, floor to ceiling.

The agents proceeded to remove them – revealing what appeared to be another hidden section behind.

It took only minutes to break down the false divider, and as the light of day washed in, everyone stood speechless.

Looking back at them were the soiled and dehydrated faces of men, women and children, cramped like fish. The second container revealed even more people.

In total, 44 traffic victims had been saved from a life of slavery.

It was a mere drop in the ocean, but over the course of the next year, Canadian and American authorities required that all shipping ports within their borders install the same system.

And with news of its success, other nations, one by one, followed suit.

 

END