Chapter 33 - The Dawn Confrontation
By first light, a sleek, unmarked black carbon-fiber interceptor vessel had appeared on our starboard quarter, cutting across the turquoise waters at breakneck speed. Dante remained calm, leaning against the rail with a cup of black coffee while I stood beside him in a tailored white linen suit, looking every bit the ruthless strategist I had become. The interceptor slowed to a crawl, and a man in an expensive Italian suit stepped onto their bow, holding a megaphone. It was Marcus Vance himself, his face flushed with arrogance under the Mediterranean sun. "Vane! Thorne!" Marcus bellowed across the water. "You think you can bankrupt my empire and sail off into the sunset? Hand over the cryptographic keys to the holding company, or we board you by force!" Dante chuckled, setting his coffee cup down and raising his own satellite phone. He didn't shout back. He simply tapped a single red icon on his screen. Half a mile away, two Coast Guard patrol boats—summoned via our maritime security contracts—suddenly emerged from behind a limestone headland, their sirens cutting through the morning silence and boxing Marcus's vessel in from behind.
