Chapter 14 - Fire on the Bay
The bridge of the Aegis Sovereign was lined with glowing touchscreens, radar sweeps, and encrypted satellite uplinks.
Vince slammed Weber into the leather captain’s chair, keeping the magnesium flare pressed hard against the man’s carotid artery with his left hand, while his right hand quickly locked the reinforced bridge hatch from the inside. Outside the thick tempered glass, four armed guards were already hammering on the door with the butts of their rifles.
"The terminal," Vince commanded, his breathing hard, sweat stinging his eyes despite the freezing chill. "Access the Vanguard global broadcast channel."
Weber wheezed, clutching his shattered thumb, his face pale with shock and humiliation. "You don't understand what you're doing, Moreno. This isn't a cartel. This is the infrastructure of sixteen international ports. If you burn this network, the supply chains for three continents will grind to a halt! Thousands of vessels will be stranded!"
"Then they can learn to navigate without thieves at the helm," Vince said coldly, pressing the flare's firing pin down another millimeter. "Enter the override key."
Weber trembled, his fingers hesitating over the illuminated console. Slowly, with shaking hands, he typed a thirty-two-character alphanumeric sequence into the primary terminal.
The screens flashed green: VANGUARD SECURE MARITIME NETWORK - BROADCAST READY.
Vince reached into his pocket and pulled out the second drive—the real micro-ledger that Sofia had given him before they crossed the border. He slammed it into the console’s USB port.
A loading bar appeared on the center display: UPLOADING ENCRYPTED MANIFESTS TO INTERPOL, FBI, AND ADMIRALTY MARITIME INTELLIGENCE.
"It's done," Weber whispered, his eyes hollow, watching forty years of criminal logistics upload into every law enforcement database on Earth. "You've killed us all. When the board sees this breach, they'll execute every executive on this manifest."
"Then you better hope the Mounties get to you first," Vince said.
Suddenly, an alarm klaxon wailed throughout the yacht.
On the radar display, a high-speed vessel was approaching fast from the outer channel, cutting through the freezing black water with its navigation lights dark.
"What is that?" Vince demanded, glancing out the bridge window.
Weber let out a ragged, terrified laugh. "The board’s cleanup protocol. They detected the unauthorized terminal login five minutes ago. They aren't coming to rescue me, Vincent. They're coming to sink the ship."
A missile warning siren screamed from the yacht's defense console.
Across the dark harbor, a flash of fire erupted from the approaching gunboat.
Vince didn't hesitate. He grabbed Weber by the collar and hurled him behind the reinforced steel navigation desk, diving flat onto the deck plates just as a high-explosive anti-ship missile impacted the yacht’s forward bow.
The blast was catastrophic.
The entire 150-foot vessel leaped out of the water, its steel hull tearing open like wet cardboard. Fireball and shockwave shattered the bridge windows, showering the room in blinding white heat and screaming shards of armor glass. Vince was lifted by the concussive force, thrown violently against the rear bulkhead, darkness crashing over his vision as freezing seawater rushed into the burning ruin of the bridge.
Through the ringing in his ears and the smell of burning diesel, Vince heard the sound of approaching sirens—not from the water, but from the pier.
With agonizing effort, Vince dragged himself up through the shattered bridge window, hauling his bloodied body onto the sinking aft deck.
Across the water, police cruisers and tactical vehicles with flashing red lights were swarming the dock apron, cutting off the gunboat’s escape route.
Vince looked down at the dark, freezing water below him.
May you like
"Sofia..." he gasped, his strength fading fast as the yacht began its final, vertical plunge into the icy depths of the Saint John bay.
He fell forward into the freezing abyss.
