Chapter 9 - The Reckoning on the Deck
The deck of The Baltic Star was a treacherous landscape of wet iron, heavy towing cables, and towering cargo hatches. Rain lashed across the open space in horizontal sheets as lightning illuminated the storm clouds overhead.
When Claire reached the main bridge deck, she saw Matthew standing near the anchor winch, his pistol raised. Ten feet away stood Arthur, holding a shivering, terrified woman in a yellow raincoat in front of him as a shield.
The woman had long dark hair, pale skin, and eyes that matched Leo’s exactly.
Ellen Brooks.
"Put the gun down, Matthew!" Arthur shouted over the roaring wind, pressing his silenced pistol against Ellen's temple. "Or her blood is on your hands!"
Ellen looked at her husband through the pouring rain, tears streaming down her face. "Matthew... I'm so sorry... I never wanted any of this..."
"It's over, Arthur!" Matthew yelled back, stepping forward despite the rain blinding his vision. "Federal marshals are five minutes out! My security team alerted the Coast Guard before we reached the docks!"
Arthur laughed wildly, his composure entirely gone. "The marshals won't get here in time to save any of you! Where is the flash drive?!"
"Right here," a voice spoke from behind the heavy steel anchor chain.
Anne Bennett stepped out into the open light of the deck, holding the glowing silver flash drive high above her head. "You want the master codes, Arthur? Come and get them."
Arthur’s eyes flickered with greed. For a fraction of a second, his focus shifted away from Ellen toward Anne.
That single second was all Matthew needed.
Matthew fired two quick shots into the steel deck at Arthur's feet. The ricochets threw sparks into the air. Ellen ducked instinctively, twisting her body out of Arthur's grip and dropping to the wet deck.
Arthur snarled, bringing his weapon up toward Matthew—but Claire burst from the shadow of the bridge tower, hurling a heavy steel coupling shackle straight at Arthur's arm.
The heavy iron tool struck Arthur's wrist with a sickening crack. His pistol flew from his fingers, bouncing across the slippery deck before sliding over the edge into the dark, churning ocean thirty feet below.
Arthur clutched his broken wrist, backing toward the edge of the ship’s railing, his face twisted in pure, desperate malice. "You think you've won?! The syndicate has dozens of men in this city! You'll never be safe!"
"They won't be looking for us, Arthur," Matthew said, stepping forward and leveling his firearm at Arthur's chest. "Because that flash drive contains every name, every account, and every dirty politician on your payroll. You're finished."
Searchlights suddenly cut through the heavy rain overhead. The deep, rhythmic thrum of twin rotors shook the air as a United States Coast Guard helicopter hovered above the freighter, casting brilliant white light over the entire deck.
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A voice boomed through a loudspeaker: "This is the United States Coast Guard! Drop your weapons and raise your hands immediately!"
Arthur looked up at the blinding lights, then down at the boiling ocean below the railing. Realizing his empire had collapsed, he let out a frantic scream and threw himself backward over the side of the ship, plunging into the dark, cold waters of the Atlantic.
