Chapter 68 - The Shattered Bargain
Before Harlan could finish his sentence, the blinding glare of the spotlight above us suddenly exploded in a shower of sparks and shattered glass. A sharp *crack* echoed from our pursuit boat—Marcus had deployed a suppressed rifle from behind the helm, eliminating their visual advantage in an instant.
The salon deck was plunged into the dim, shadowy glow of emergency red navigation lights.
"Marcus, no!" Evelyn screamed, throwing herself flat against the teak deck in blind panic.
Harlan snarled, his grip on Emma tightening as he raised the heavy revolver to fire back into the darkness toward our boat. But Emma didn't freeze. In that split second of total disorientation, she remembered the lesson I had taught her during the siege at the cabin: *When someone holds you from behind, drop your weight and drive your heel into their instep.*
She stomped down with all her might on Harlan's leather boot.
Harlan roared in pain, his balance shifting on the slick fiberglass. The revolver discharged with a deafening blast, the heavy bullet chewing a chunk of teak flooring inches from my feet.
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"Emma, down!" I bellowed, lunging forward with every ounce of speed I possessed.
I tackled Emma to the floor, rolling her under the shelter of the heavy outdoor dining table as a volley of automatic gunfire ripped through the salon windows. Harlan’s mercenaries, stationed inside the wheelhouse, had opened fire on the deck, blindly raking the shadows with copper-jacketed rounds that shattered wood, fiberglass, and glass into deadly shrapnel.
