Chapter 11 - The Black Channel
The interceptor sliced through the four-foot ocean swells, slamming down hard against the black water with jarring, bone-rattling impacts. Salt spray drenched Christian’s dark hair, plastering it against his forehead, the small scar above his brow standing out pale and rigid under the console lights.
Clara sat on the floorboards between the passenger seats, sheltering Julian who was drifting in and out of consciousness from blood loss and shock. Titan lay stretched across her legs, his warm, heavy body providing anchor and comfort against the violent turbulence of the sea.
Clara reached inside her robe, pulling out the small leather-bound notebook and a water-resistant satellite tablet she had retrieved from her personal safe before the assault began. Her fingers flew across the glass interface, entering the twenty-four-character alphanumeric encryption sequence found in the margins of Vance senior's journal.
""Christian,"" Clara called out, her voice competing with the scream of the twin superchargers. ""I'm inside the port logistics network. The Syndicate has already bypassed the automated cranes. They aren't trying to open container forty-two.""
Christian glanced down at the radar overlay. The green blip representing dock seventy-four was surrounded by three stationary vessels—heavy tugs typically used to maneuver mega-freighters.
""What are they doing with it?"" Christian asked, his voice dead calm despite the storm of chaos awaiting them.
""They're loading it onto a scrap barge,"" Clara said, horror seeping into her voice as the port manifests decoded on screen. ""They're going to tow it into international waters and scuttle it. They aren't going to let Nikolai Volkov have his daughter back, and they aren't going to use her for leverage. They're burying the secret at the bottom of the shelf.""
Julian groaned from the floor, his eyes fluttering open. ""Told you... they don't leave... loose ends... nobody survives them...""
""Shut up, Julian,"" Christian snapped, adjusting the trim tabs to force the boat’s nose down, cutting through the chop at sixty knots. ""Clara, can you override the crane controls remotely?""
""No,"" she said, her teeth gritted as the tablet displayed an authentication error in bold crimson. ""The harbor terminal requires physical biometric authorization. It was hardwired into the local crane operator tower to prevent cyber hijacking.""
Christian’s jaw tightened. ""Whose biometrics?""
Clara looked up from the glowing screen, her eyes wide under the salt spray. ""Your father's. Or an exact DNA match. Meaning... you, Christian. You have to place your hand on that console.""
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Christian stared into the dark silhouette of the industrial coastline looming ahead, where massive orange container gantry cranes stood like giant iron spiders against the smog-choked horizon.
""Then we don't sneak in,"" Christian said, pulling the throttles all the way to the firewall. ""We take the dock by storm.""
