Chapter 10: The Captain’s Choice
I pressed my hand against the console.
The system confirmed my pulse.
A countdown began.
Seven minutes.
Forty-three seconds.
The Elysium changed course away from the tanker.
The oil vessel continued turning, but the distance between us increased.
On another screen, the attack sequence against the USS Resolute paused.
My biometric signal held both commands in suspension.
If I left the yacht or my heartbeat vanished before impact, control would transfer back to Adrian.
Cross saw the change from engineering.
“What did you activate?”
“The sacrifice protocol.”
Silence.
Then his voice hardened.
“Cancel it.”
“I can’t.”
“I can disconnect the monitor.”
“That will resume the Resolute countdown.”
Rachel broke into the channel.
“There has to be another method.”
“There is,” I said. “Victor’s death code.”
My father stood several feet away with blood on his mouth.
Senator Price lay unconscious beside the server column.
Adrian had retreated through the far exit with two guards.
My mother and Vanessa emerged from cover.
Victor understood immediately.
“You intend to kill me.”
“I intend to stop your system.”
“You cannot know the death code will override the sacrifice sequence.”
“Then tell us another way.”
He looked at the screens.
For the first time, he appeared old.
Not weak.
Victor Ashford had never allowed weakness.
But the architecture of his life was collapsing around him.
His son had stolen his weapon.
His wife had stopped obeying.
His eldest daughter had been framed.
The daughter he erased now held the authority to decide whether he lived.
Five minutes.
Fifty seconds.
“Father,” Vanessa whispered. “Give her the code.”
“It is not a code I can speak.”
“Then what is it?”
“A device inside my pacemaker.”
My mother stared at him.
“You never told me you had a pacemaker.”
“I did not want the market to know.”
Of course.
Not his family.
The market.
“If my heart stops,” he said, “the implant transmits a shutdown command to every active Harbinger system.”
Rachel entered the server room with Cross.
Cross carried a portable control unit connected to exposed cables.
“The implant signal can be simulated.”
Victor looked at him.
“You.”
Cross raised his weapon.
“Disappointed?”
“I paid men to confirm you were dead.”
“They lied.”
“Everyone does eventually.”
Cross connected the unit to the server.
“Pacemaker frequency.”
Victor hesitated.
I raised my weapon toward his chest.
“Tell him.”
“Kill me, and the transmission may not reach through the yacht’s shielding.”
“Then provide the frequency.”
He recited a sequence.
Cross entered it.
The system rejected the signal.
“Authentication requires an encryption phrase,” Cross said.
My father remained silent.
Four minutes.
My mother stepped toward him.
“Was any of it real?”
Victor looked at her.
“What?”
“Our marriage.”
“This is irrelevant.”
“That means no.”
“Lillian.”
“Was Elena’s exile truly meant to protect her?”
My father’s eyes moved toward me.
“I was told the investigation could expose the family.”
“That is not an answer,” I said.
“I arranged a foreign account and an identity for you.”
“You destroyed my name.”
“To prevent you from returning.”
“You convinced Vanessa and Adrian I was dead.”
“Because grief eventually becomes obedience.”
Even Adrian’s betrayal had not prepared me for the coldness of that sentence.
My mother slapped him.
The sound echoed through the server room.
Victor did not strike her back.
He simply stared.
She removed her wedding ring.
“What is the phrase?”
He said nothing.
She dropped the ring onto the floor.
“What is the phrase, Victor?”
Three minutes.
Twenty seconds.
The yacht’s automated voice ordered everyone to abandon ship.
Lifeboats began launching.
My biometric signal weakened as the central system detected movement around me.
Cross adjusted the sensor.
“We have less time than the display shows.”
Vanessa looked at our father.
“You made us compete for your love our entire lives.”
Victor’s expression did not change.
“You taught Adrian that kindness was weakness. You taught me beauty was the only reason anyone would keep me. You taught Elena that truth would always be punished.”
She pressed her unwounded hand against her chest.
“And now you would rather let us die than surrender one secret.”
Victor looked toward the Resolute countdown.
Then he whispered a phrase.
“Blood builds the empire.”
Cross entered it.
The system displayed PARTIAL AUTHORIZATION.
“Second phrase,” he said.
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“There is only one.”
“Someone changed the protocol.”
“Adrian,” I said.
The sacrifice countdown reached two minutes.
A message appeared.
SECOND AUTHORITY REQUIRED.
ADRIAN ASHFORD.
My brother had ensured that no one could shut down Harbinger without him.
Cross searched the internal network.
“His biometric signal is moving toward the helicopter deck.”
“He is escaping,” Rachel said.
I removed my hand from the console.
Alarms intensified.
The Resolute countdown resumed.
Cross forced my palm back against the scanner.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting Adrian.”
“You cannot leave the sensor.”
“I know.”
Rachel understood.
“I’ll go.”
“No. He expects you.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“He will not expect me.”
She was pale from blood loss.
Her shoulder dressing had reopened.
“You can barely stand.”
“He has spent his entire life believing I am useless.”
She picked up Price’s pistol.
“For once, that may be useful.”
My mother tried to stop her.
Vanessa pulled away.
“One of us has to do something Father did not plan.”
She entered the elevator with Rachel.
Cross continued working.
I remained bound to the console by my own pulse.
Ninety seconds.
The yacht’s predicted collision point had changed.
We were no longer heading toward the tanker.
We were heading toward a reef.
Impact would tear the hull open.
Most passengers had launched in boats, but crew members remained below.
“Can you open the sealed compartments?” I asked.
“I can open them or maintain the Resolute suspension.”
“Open them.”
“Elena.”
“Do it.”
He redirected power.
Green indicators appeared across the yacht plan.
Crew members began escaping.
The carrier countdown moved forward three seconds before he restored suspension.
Forty seconds.
Rachel’s voice came through.
“Adrian is at the helicopter.”
Gunfire followed.
Vanessa shouted.
Then silence.
“Rachel?”
No response.
Twenty-five seconds.
Cross looked at me.
“If we cannot obtain Adrian’s biometric authority, I can keep the carrier safe only by maintaining your signal.”
“Until impact.”
“Yes.”
“Then get everyone off.”
“I am not leaving.”
“That is an order.”
“You are suspended.”
“I still outrank you.”
“You always did rely on technicalities.”
Ten seconds.
A new biometric signal entered the system.
ADRIAN ASHFORD VERIFIED.
Vanessa’s voice came through the comms.
“I have him.”
The second shutdown field opened.
Cross entered the phrases.
Victor’s pacemaker simulation transmitted.
All vessel indicators changed from red to gray.
Harbinger shut down.
One second remained on the impact timer.
The yacht’s engines died.
Momentum carried us toward the reef.
The hull struck.
Metal screamed.
The floor split beneath the server core.
Water exploded through the lower deck.
I was thrown against the console.
Cross disappeared beneath a collapsing server rack.
Victor fell toward the opening.
My mother caught his hand.
For a second, she held the man who had destroyed every member of our family.
He looked up at her.
“Lillian.”
She could have released him.
No one would have blamed her.
Instead she screamed for help.
I grabbed his other arm.
Together we pulled him back.
The yacht tilted sharply.
Cross remained trapped beneath the rack as water rose.
I waded toward him.
“Elena, leave!”
I lifted the twisted frame.
Pain tore across my scars.
The steel felt hot even though it was cold.
For one second, I saw the Meridian bulkhead again.
I heard sailors crawling beneath my arms.
I pushed harder.
Cross dragged himself free.
We climbed toward the elevator.
The power failed.
Water reached our waists.
The emergency ladder extended through a narrow shaft.
My mother climbed first.
Victor followed.
Cross pushed me toward it.
A second impact shook the hull.
The server room door tore open.
A wave rushed inside.
Cross lost his grip.
I caught his wrist.
He hung above the flooding chamber.
“Let go,” he said.
“I already made that mistake once.”
“You never let go.”
He looked down.
A red light blinked beneath the water.
One Harbinger server remained active.
On its screen, a final transmission completed.
TARGET PACKAGE SENT.
DESTINATION UNKNOWN.
Cross looked back at me.
“Adrian did not build one countdown.”
May you like
The server vanished beneath the water.
“He built hundreds.”
