Chapter 142
Chapter 142:
“Don’t let them cross the line,” Cailin said, wiping sea spray from her face with the back of her hand. “If they reach the ship, she is gone forever p>
The wind whipped Cailin’s hair across her face, stinging her eyes. She gripped the metal railing with both hands, her knuckles bone-white.
The ocean was rough. The boat slammed against each wave, the impact jarring through her body like a hammer blow.
Hilliard navigated the water as though he had been born to it, reading the swells before they arrived and cutting through them at angles that shed precious seconds off the distance. They were closing the gap. The kidnapper’s boat was smaller and weighed down by fuel and three people.
Gretchen looked back. She saw them gaining.
She raised the gun.
Ping.
A bullet sparked off the metal rail inches from Cailin’s hand.
“Get down!” Hilliard threw one arm out and shoved her toward the deck without taking his eyes off the water.
у𝗼𝗎𝗋 𝗱аil𝗒 𝗱о𝗌𝗲 о𝖿 𝗇о𝗏𝖾𝗹𝗌 𝗼n.соm
“I’m going to ram them,” he announced, his face carved from stone.
“Elia is on that boat!” Cailin screamed.
“I’ll clip the engine. Trust me p>
He steered hard to the right, riding the crest of a swell, then cut sharply left. The bow of their boat angled for the stern of the fleeing vessel.
Crunch.
Wood and fiberglass shattered with a sickening, hollow sound. The kidnapper’s engine belched smoke and died. Their boat spun wildly on the surface, completely dead in the water.
Gretchen lost her footing. She stumbled, arms wheeling for balance.
The gun flew from her hand, skidded across the wet deck, and disappeared into the dark water below.
“Yes!” Cailin hauled herself upright.
But Gretchen wasn’t finished. She reached into her boot and drew a knife. In the same motion she seized Elia, pulling the child hard against her chest.
Hilliard circled the dead boat slowly, deliberately, his wake rocking it in violent lurches. He grabbed a megaphone from the dashboard.
“Give us the child!” His voice boomed across the open water.
“Back off or I cut her!” Gretchen pressed the blade against Elia’s throat.
Elia was crying — high, terrified sobs that carried clearly over the sound of the waves.
“Mommy p>
Cailin stood up, ignoring Hilliard’s sharp command to stay down.
“Look at me, Gretchen!” she shouted across the water. “I am the one you want! Let her go — take me instead p>
“You are nobody!” Gretchen spat back. “Charla wants you dead p>
Hilliard went perfectly still.
Charla.
He had heard it. Clear as a bell, cutting straight through the sound of the ocean and the wind. Every remaining doubt dissolved in that instant.
Then shadows fell across the water.
Three black tactical boats materialized from the mist, moving in silent formation like sharks rising to the surface. They bore no markings. They moved like something military.
Kegan’s fleet.
They closed in from three directions, forming a perfect ring around the dead boat.
“Surrender.” The voice that came from the lead vessel was amplified and distorted — enormous, almost inhuman — filling the air above the water like the voice of something inevitable.
The circle was complete.