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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Marc Cameron
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February 27 - March 21, 2022
Each year, almost three-quarters of a billion of these ubiquitous metal containers—roughly 24 trillion pounds of cargo—moved around the world via tractor-trailer, locomotive, and cargo ship. Roughly 180 million TEUs came from China, and well over 10 million of those came through the Port of Dalian—on ships much like Orion
naturally relaxed into a smile—a coworker had remarked that he always looked as though he’d just relieved himself in the swimming pool.
He made Gao repeat the number of the desired TEU and would not allow him to write it down. Today, the man with the red eye wanted two TEUs—PBCU-112128-1 and PBCU-112128-2—loaded together,
Container Identification Number: BIC Code (Owner prefix) + Equipment Identifier + Serial Number + Check Digit
Aahh, memories of my CBP days at L.A./Long Beach Seaport.
Gao was a moral man, opposed to narcotics, but nine hundred yuan was nine hundred yuan, and he rationalized that he did not know with any degree of certainty what was in the container.
Charged with protecting the highest political leaders in China, the duties of the Central Security Bureau were akin to those of the U.S. Secret Service. Operatives in the CSB, however, put much more emphasis on the word secret
It would not do to have the general secretary or some other party dignitary thinking one of the men who protected him was half blind or, worse yet, half drunk.
What man in his right mind would confide a sudden windfall of money to his wife, of all people?
Hollywood would have everyone believe the entire communication package, including the mic and radio, could be wrapped up and fit into the tiny bit of plastic worn inside the ear.
“Just thinking about this sexy life of a spy,” Ryan said.
Ding had a master’s degree in international relations, but he could turn on his East L.A. accent at the drop of a hat.
Since the capture of Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, factions of the cartel were becoming even more bloody—if more violence than that brought on by the Sinaloa was even possible.
Like every legal commercial ship on the seas, Orion’s automated information system broadcast a unique identifier.
He took a sip of Sumatran coffee from a ceramic mug that bore the image of a blue-and-silver Dallas Cowboys football helmet. He was not a fan of the team or the game. He only kept the mug because, though it signified something so uniquely American, it had MADE IN CHINA etched on the underside.
Culturally, Captain Leong should have been drinking tea, but the rigors and travels of a sea captain’s life had simply taught him to know better. Chinese tea had a place among women and gentle souls, but sea captains needed coffee,
There were, no doubt, a few drugs and an illicit weapon or two hidden in some of the containers, but the captain was a freight man, not a smuggler.
At 165,000 tons, and fifty meters longer than an American Nimitz-class aircraft carrier,
southern Japanese island of Kyushu to catch the dark waters of the Kuroshio Current. Similar to the Gulf Stream of the Atlantic, the Kuroshio flowed up from the equator, pushing her warm waters north and east—and
He liked the Pacific Northwest. There was a quietness to the place that calmed him, even in heavy seas.
Any fool could drive a boat on calm waters. It took a real seaman to save fuel in a storm, aboard a box carrying boxes that were filled with boxes.
With all the soulless plastic, the only nod toward a more traditional helm was the half-sphere compass, its magnetic correction noted on a metal plate affixed to the plastic beside it. It cost just over one American penny to ship a can of beer across the Pacific, but with that efficiency came the loss of soul.
It seemed to Captain Leong that he’d sailed out of one port when sailing had provided him an exotic life of adventure, and then, over the course of that single voyage, while he was not paying attention, it had become a job.
Bagus, meaning “handsome” in Bali—was
English—the international language of commerce—and
Countless TEUs went overboard each year. Most sank shortly after hitting the water, but some lurked just below the surface like drifting reefs.
the Wärt.” The rating used the nickname for the engine.
“Wen!” the captain said, calling the addled man by his given name in an effort to steady him.
Leong watched helplessly as the man fell straight back down, into the same fiery pit from which he’d come. Now he believed in Hell.