The team communicated in hushed clicks and hand signals.Finally, the bridge loomed ahead, its reinforced door a final barrier.
Jerry shot through the door’s lock with a precise round, the report echoing sharply down the hall.He kicked it in, the impact reverberating up his leg through the thin soles of his dress shoes.He raised his weapon instantly, sighting in on the man obviously in charge.
An older Chinese man in full black battle fatigues stared at them with cold contempt, silently raising his hands.Peña approached with pistol drawn, grabbing the man and pressing him against the wall to zip-tie his wrists.
Norton broadcast, “Trout.Coppertop.Smothered mate.I say again.Smothered mate.Over.”
Fisher’s voice, responding to the chess reference, crackled over comms.“Roger, Coppertop.No movement on the ship’s deck.No movement in the loading bay.”
They lacked the manpower for a full sweep, so vigilance remained high—eyes on every shadow, every unlocked door.
Anderson chimed in.“Be advised.Just confirmed DC is sending reinforcements.DHS and a detachment from Fourteenth Group inbound.”Reinforcements dispatched by the Secret Service and a detachment from the 14th Special Forces Group (Airborne), previously conducting training in Puerto Rico, were en route.
“ETA?”Peña demanded.
After a few seconds, Anderson replied, “Twenty-two mikes.”
They moved back to the loading dock with their prisoners in tow.Upon arrival, Jerry handed off his Chinese prisoner to Ibrahim, who herded him toward a makeshift corral of stacked crates they had moved into place to confine their few captives.
“We’re gonna need medical support for some of their wounded.Trout.Prioritize that,” Peña broadcast.
“Roger,” Fisher replied.“I’ll put them on the list right behind Pot Pie.”
Peña scoffed, then whistled sharply.“Jerry Maguire, Hobbes, Honest Abe…” he hesitated, “Coppertop.Do another sweep of that ship.Drumstick and me will keep these fine folks company.Make it quick, boys.Most ricky-tick.Spike the punch bowl on the way out.”
An eternity passed in the next twelve minutes.Once the all-clear echoed—tentative but necessary—they tossed grenades into the ship’s engine room.After getting back on the cruise ship, they severed the mooring ropes and sealed the cruise ship’s cargo doors, isolating the threats.They returned to find that Peña had made no meaningful progress in getting any information out of their guests.
Norton keyed his comms.“We need Twenty-Four Ten.Anyone available to escort her?”
“I’ll go get her,” Peña replied.
Emma chimed in over the channel.“Send pictures.I need to start research.”
Jerry quickly snapped a few photos of the Chinese leader’s face and texted them to Peña’s wife.
“Glad I didn’t join the Navy, for whatever good that did me today,” Sanders quipped in his droll voice.
Abruptly, Anderson cut in, “Jerry Maguire, we located Olive.”
His heart leaped in his chest.Already halfway to the door, he demanded, “Where?”
“Brig.I’ll guide you,” Anderson said.
Hao stared at Olive with narrowed eyes, his probing gaze prickling the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.She shifted on the bench, finding the intensity of his stare more disconcerting than the sporadic bursts of gunfire that had sounded for the last five minutes.
“You don’t seem scared,” he said, his voice low and edged with suspicion.“What do you know?”
Olive shook her head, the motion sending a fresh twinge through her bruised jaw.“I’m terrified,” she confessed.“Just used to tense situations.Helps me internalize my emotions.”
“What does that mean?”His brow furrowed.
Olive licked her lips, tasting salty tears she’d hidden from them.The hostility rolling off him in waves coiled tightly around her chest, making her breath come shallower.“I’m a surgical nurse and served in the US Army,” she explained, keeping her tone even.“I can be afraid but still function.”
He glared at her for a long beat, his dark eyes unyielding, before the hard lines of his face eased.“I see.”He lifted a hand to the back of his head, fingers tracing the edges of the bandage with deliberate care.“You patched me up.”
“I did.”
Emanuel interjected from his spot on the bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.“I was in the Navy.”
