Chapter 18 - Blood on the Marble
The storm over Lake Michigan raged with ferocious intensity.
Beneath the churning, ink-black surface of the water, it was another world entirely. The only sound was the rhythmic hiss of my oxygen regulator and the low hum of the diver propulsion vehicle pulling me through the massive subterranean concrete pipe.
Luca was swimming inches beside me, his tactical dive light casting a narrow beam through the dark water. Behind us, Dominic and three elite divers followed in close formation.
Ahead, the concrete pipe opened into a vertical chamber—the intake crib.
We surfaced inside the air pocket of the massive industrial cavern beneath the crib superstructure. I spat out my mouthpiece, wiping freezing water from my eyes, and pointed toward an iron ladder bolted into the slimy concrete wall.
"Emergency pump room is up there," I whispered, our voices swallowed by the roaring waves crashing against the crib's exterior stone walls outside. "Manual valve thirty-two will equalize the pressure so we can climb out to the surface observation platform."
Luca climbed the ladder first, his suppressed sidearm drawn the moment he cleared the iron rung. He scanned the damp pump room, then reached down to haul me up effortlessly, pulling me against his neoprene-clad chest for a brief second before Dominic followed.
I moved directly to the mechanical junction box, finding the rusted iron wheel Arthur had marked on the blueprint. Using a crowbar from Dominic's pack, I leveraged the frozen wheel. With a harsh metallic groan, the valve turned.
A heavy hatch above us hissed, unsealing.
Luca peeked through the opening. "Observation deck is clear. *The Santa Maria* is two hundred yards south, running dark except for the bridge lights."
We ascended to the open-air deck of the crib. The wind hit us like a physical blow, freezing rain lashing our faces. Out in the black expanse of the lake, the massive freighter rolled heavily against the violent swells.
"Their satellite dish is mounted atop the wheelhouse," Dominic pointed out, peering through night-vision binoculars. "There are four guards patrolling the aft deck, two on the bridge wings."
"Ten minutes until midnight," Luca checked his tactical watch. "Dominic, take the divers and hit the engine room from the rudder access. Kill their generator. When the lights go out, Marco will run for the satellite terminal to force the manual upload."
"Understood," Dominic nodded, adjusting his gear.
"Clara stays with me on the wheelhouse roof," Luca commanded, looking at me with absolute authority. "Once the generator drops, you disable the satellite feed while I clear the bridge."
"Consider it done," I said, checking the wire cutters and electronic bypass kit strapped to my tactical vest.
May you like
We slipped back into the churning waves, cutting through the swells toward the steel hull of the freighter.
***
