She Joked That Everyone Forgot Her Birthday / Chapter 38 / 60

Chapter 38 - Storm over the Outer Shoals

The high-pitched wail of the building's emergency comms system echoed down the elevator shaft.

Julian’s voice crackled through the wall intercom: *"Nicholas! Elena! Can you hear me? The acoustic decoy worked! Naval Air Station Brunswick just scrambled four P-8 Poseidon sub-hunting aircraft! They're dropping sonar buoys directly over the outer shoals!"*

Vivienne laughed—a ragged, hysterical sound that echoed off the damp stone walls.

"You think the military can touch my Black Fleet?" she spat, blood trickling from her split lip. "Those submarines aren't crewed by mercenaries, Nicholas. They are fully automated drone platforms slaved to a quantum satellite relay on my yacht off Martha's Vineyard! The moment they detect incoming torpedo locks, their fail-safe triggers automatically! They will fire before the navy even enters the bay!"

I pressed a hand to my bleeding shoulder, stumbling to my feet. "How do we abort the launch?"

"You can't," Vivienne sneered, looking at me with pure venom. "The abort code exists only in the brain of the sovereign commander. And I would rather watch Boston drown in radioactive ash than let you sit upon the Vance throne with a Falcone dog by your side."

Nicholas raised his weapon, pressing the cold steel of the barrel between her eyes. "Give me the abort code, Vivienne. Last chance."

"Shoot me, boy," she whispered, her aristocratic smile returning, cold and triumphant. "Pull the trigger. And condemn your entire city to the dark."

"Nicholas, wait!" I cried, lunging forward and pushing his gun barrel upward.

"Elena, we have four minutes before the fail-safe fires!" he shouted, his chest heaving with desperate fury.

"Look at the console!" I pointed at the glowing blue data port where my grandfather's silver cartridge was still flashing green.

The screen wasn't asking for an alphanumeric code. It was running a memory analysis program.

*Vance Sovereign Archive: File 1999 - Audio Log - Little Bird.*

My breath stopped.

"Grandfather didn't give me launch codes," I whispered, stepping toward the glowing screen. "He recorded her. Before she left. Before she burned the clinic."

I hit the playback key with trembling fingers.

Through the subterranean intercom, the sound of an acoustic guitar played three gentle, familiar chords. Then, my mother’s voice—not the cold, merciless voice of the Black Fleet sovereign, but the warm, gentle, melodic voice of the mother who used to brush my hair by the fireplace—began to sing:

*"Sleep now, sweet Elena... the harbor winds blow cold... but the serpent guards the cradle... with silver and with gold..."*

The system terminal blinked green.

*Voice Biometric Harmonic Signature Verified.*

*Command Authority: Maternal Sovereign Core.*

*Deactivation sequence available. Confirm abort?*

Vivienne stared at the screen, her face completely pale, all the color draining from her lips. "Thomas... you old bastard. You recorded my lullaby..."