Chapter 72 - Iron Against Steel
The first barrage struck before Beatrice could calibrate the electromagnetic countermeasure array.
A high-explosive shell slammed into the port bow of the *Valkyrie*, sending a violent shockwave through the hull. Metal shrieked in agony as the floor bucked underneath us. Julian grabbed the rail, his newly bandaged shoulder tearing open, bleeding red into his combat fatigue jacket. Through the reinforced viewport, the dark Atlantic horizon was alive with muzzle flashes and rocket trails, slicing through the midnight fog like streaks of burning blood.
"Direct hit on the secondary ballast!" Beatrice shouted over the roar of the klaxons. "Steering is sluggish. Clara, the lead vessel is the *Cerberus*—a private battlecruiser owned by the Vance Syndicate. They’re broadcasting on our emergency channel."
A harsh, static-laden voice crackled through the comms speaker. It was smooth, arrogant, dripping with predatory greed. *"To the woman holding the Sterling asset. You have three minutes to surrender the child to our boarding skiff. Hand over the boy unharmed, and we will grant you a swift death. Refuse, and we will board with thermite grenades. There will be nothing left of you or the brat to bury."*
I walked slowly over to the console, picked up the radio transmitter, and pressed the talk switch.
"My name is Clara Sterling," I said, each word cold as an iceberg carving through dark water. "You took money from the people who starved my son and made him crawl on broken knees while they laughed. You have thirty seconds to turn your fleet around and pray to whatever god you believe in. Because if you set one foot on this ship, I will personally hang your intestines from your own mainmast."
I dropped the mic, not waiting for a reply. "Julian, dump the reserve fuel cells into the aft wake."
Julian’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. "A fuel slick? We’ll ignite the entire surface."
"Burn it all," I ordered, chambering another round and pulling my combat vest tight. "Let them see the fire they started."
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Beatrice slapped the release valve. Thousands of gallons of combustible aviation fuel poured into the churning wake behind our vessel. Seconds later, Julian launched a magnesium flare into the churning black foam. The sea exploded into a roaring wall of golden flame, towering forty feet into the night air. The pursuing speedboats of the vanguard were instantly swallowed in the inferno, the screams of the mercenaries lost beneath the roar of the waves.
***
