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Chapter 619
Chapter 619:
The hunt led them back to the water.
Skye’s tracking algorithm had pinpointed the source of Parker’s broadcast. It was a cargo ship anchored just outside international waters, off the coast of Oakhaven.
They stood on the dock. The wind was howling. Liam, Alistair, and Skye.
“We need a boat,” Liam said.
“I have one,” Alistair said.
A sleek, black, military-grade interceptor boat pulled up. Felix was at the wheel.
They boarded. The engine roared—a beast waking up. They tore across the water, the spray hitting their faces like needles.
“There,” Skye pointed.
A rusted tanker loomed in the mist.
The Siren’s Call.
“It looks abandoned,” Liam said.
“It’s not,” Alistair said, checking his weapon. “Thermal imaging shows heat signatures on the bridge p>
They pulled alongside. Alistair fired a grappling hook. They climbed the side of the ship, silent shadows.
They reached the deck. It was empty.
“Too quiet,” Alistair whispered.
Suddenly, floodlights blinded them.
“Welcome aboard!” Parker’s voice boomed over a loudspeaker.
Mercenaries poured out from behind the shipping containers.
Automatic weapons raised.
“It’s a trap,” Skye said.
“Take cover!” Alistair shoved Skye behind a winch.
P𝖣𝗙𝘀 on 𝗯𝘦𝘭𝘯о𝘷е𝘭𝘀.𝗰o𝘮
Gunfire erupted. Bullets sparked against the metal deck.
Liam pulled a gun—one Alistair had given him—and fired back. He wasn’t a soldier, but he was angry. He hit a mercenary in the leg.
“We’re pinned down!” Felix shouted, firing his assault rifle.
Skye looked around. She saw the crane control panel nearby.
“Cover me!” she yelled.
She sprinted toward the panel. Bullets whizzed past her head.
“Skye!” Alistair screamed, firing to suppress the shooters.
Skye reached the panel. She smashed the glass and yanked the lever.
The massive crane swung around. A shipping container dangling from it smashed into the mercenaries’ cover, scattering them.
Chaos.
Alistair and Liam advanced, firing. The mercenaries, disoriented, fell back.
They breached the bridge.
Parker was there. He was frantically trying to load a gun with his good hand.
Lucian sat in the captain’s chair, calm, smoking a cigar.