Chapter 17 - Wings of Retribution
As if summoned by an ancient god of war, the deafening scream of twin-turbine jet engines shattered the night.
The clouds above Pier 44 parted as four massive military-grade Sikorsky attack helicopters descended through the deluge, their blinding searchlights turning the black harbor into high noon. The downdraft was immense, whipping the ocean into a roaring froth and tearing the tarpaulins off the cargo containers like paper.
"What is that?!" Daniel screamed, cowering on the deck and covering his head.
Lucian Laurent’s aristocratic mask shattered into raw terror. "Radar! Why didn't our early warning systems pick up aircraft?!"
"Because they were flying beneath your radar horizon off the Thorne carrier fleet," I shouted above the hurricane of roaring rotors. "My father gave me fifteen minutes. You wasted fourteen."
From the open doors of the lead helicopter, snipers equipped with night-vision optics opened fire.
In a terrifying display of military precision, red tracer rounds flashed through the storm. The four Laurent mercenaries flanking us were cut down simultaneously, their bodies hitting the deck before their weapons could discharge.
Lucian staggered back, horror twisting his face as he swung his revolver back toward me.
Before he could pull the trigger, I dropped my shoulder, shielding Aurelia completely with my body, and drew the ceramic-composite blade concealed in my sleeve. In one explosive, upward strike, I drove the blade straight through the meat of Lucian’s wrist.
The revolver flew from his grasp, splashing into the harbor below.
Lucian screamed in agony, clutching his ruined wrist as blood sprayed across the deck. "You... you savage Thorne bitch!"
"That's *Crown Princess* to you," I spat, landing a vicious roundhouse kick directly into his temple. Lucian crashed to the deck, semi-conscious, groaning in the rain.
Within seconds, tactical ropes dropped from the hovering helicopters. Twelve heavily armed Thorne elite operators slid onto the deck of *The Marauder*, securing every exit with ruthless efficiency.
Leading them was Commander Sterling, his assault rifle raised, scanning the perimeter before turning to me with a crisp salute.
"Miss Thorne! The perimeter is secure. The infant?"
"Aurelia is safe," I breathed, pulling back the silk blanket to press a trembling, tear-streaked kiss to my daughter’s warm forehead. She had stopped whimpering, her tiny hand gripping the collar of my coat as if knowing the storm had passed.
Across the deck, Daniel Vance was trying to crawl toward a hatch, leaving a trail of blood on the iron grating.
I walked over to him, my heavy boots stopping inches from his face.
He rolled onto his back, gazing up at me with absolute, pathetic despair. "Seraphina... please... I was coerced! Lucian threatened to kill me! He forced me to take the baby! You know I would never hurt Aurelia... she was almost my daughter!"
"Do not dare speak her name with your filthy mouth," I said, my voice dripping with pure disgust. "You sold an innocent infant to a cartel out of petty spite because your worthless ego couldn't handle that I was royalty and you were nothing."
"Seraphina, please! We were married! We shared a life!" he wept, clinging to the leather of my boot.
I kicked his hands away with cold indifference.
"Commander Sterling," I commanded without looking back.
May you like
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Zip-tie Mr. Vance and Mr. Laurent. Put them in the bilge of this ship. Father will want to have breakfast with them before we hand whatever is left to the federal authorities."