The coordinates weren't GPS.
I had spent forty minutes after finishing Athena's file trying to map them to a physical location — street address, floor number, building quadrant — before I caught myself doing what I always did wrong, which was reading a document for what I expected to find instead of what was actually there. I set down the orange marker. I listened to the voice memo from the maritime analysis, the one from the 5 a.m. call. Neptune's voice, underwater-formal, saying: *the location is encoded in a document you have already handled*.
The Schedule C coordinates weren't coordinates in space.
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