Chapter 38 - Storm on the Iron Deck
A blinding arc of electric blue lightning exploded across the metal deck.
Two hundred volts of raw marine current surged through the standing water. Clara screamed as the violent electrical spasm locked her muscles, forcing her finger to contract convulsively on the trigger. The gunshot went wild, blowing a hole through the overhead control panel in a shower of sparks and shattered glass.
Daniel threw his weight forward, executing a brutal tactical hip throw. Clara’s body slammed violently onto the metal grating, the nickel-plated pistol flying from her grip and sliding across the wet floor out into the rain.
Clara gasped, recovering with terrifying speed. She wasn't just a corporate executive; she was a trained operative. Before Daniel could pin her, her carbon-fiber tactical knife slipped from her wrist sheath, slicing upward in a lethal arc aimed at Daniel’s throat.
Daniel jerked his head back. The razor edge missed his carotid by an inch, slicing open his collar and leaving a thin line of red across his jaw. He grabbed her wrist with both hands, twisting it with bone-snapping force. Clara didn't cry out; she drove her knee ruthlessly into Daniel’s wounded shoulder.
Agony flared white-hot through Daniel’s nervous system. His grip loosened, and Clara kicked him back against the helm wheel.
Outside, a deafening roar shook the ship. The black helicopter swept low over the vessel, hovering just twenty feet above the open rear cargo deck. A spotlight pierced through the rain-streaked bridge windows, blinding them both.
Through the rain, Daniel saw two contractors stepping onto the cargo deck from the helicopter’s winch line—and between them, dangling in an assault harness, was Noah, clutching Maya in his arms, his mouth gagged with tactical tape!
"They have them!" Clara sneered, wiping blood from her split lip, her knife gleaming in the blue console light. "It's over, Daniel! Stand down, and I might make your death painless!"
Daniel looked through the glass at his son. Noah’s eyes met his father’s through the rain-lashed storm. Even bound, even terrified, Noah did not break down. Instead, the boy locked eyes with Daniel and subtly shifted his right foot, tapping the steel deck three times—a secret signal they had practiced during their survival drills in the woods.
*Signal: Ready to ignite.*
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In Noah’s small, shivering right hand, hidden behind Maya's swaddling blanket, was the second red emergency flare Daniel had packed into the survival kit.
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