Chapter 6 - The Steel Fortress
Before General Vance could pull the trigger, a high-pitched, deafening whistle echoed through the ventilation shafts above their heads.
Suddenly, the overhead fire suppression sprinklers exploded to life, drenching the entire recovery bay in thousands of gallons of cold sea water per minute. The sudden deluge blinded the tactical operatives, dousing their helmet optics and creating a wall of torrential water.
From the dark corner behind the medical monitors, Erin Whitlock appeared like a phantom.
Despite her torn abdomen, she swung a heavy, steel oxygen cylinder with all the strength left in her body. The heavy tank struck the nearest operative squarely in the side of his helmet, sending him crashing into the stainless-steel prep tables in a spray of sparks and shattered glass.
Mercer didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, tackling the second operative to the deck, wrestling the submachine gun from his grip.
Vance fired two shots through the falling water, the silenced rounds ricocheting off the steel bulkheads with sharp PINGs. One round grazed Mercer's shoulder, tearing through his dress uniform coat.
Erin grabbed Vance's wrist, twisting it upward with expert hand-to-hand combat technique. Vance grunted in pain, dropping his pistol into the swirling water on the deck. He shoved Erin backward hard; her back hit the medical bed, and she collapsed to her knees, clutching her bleeding surgical wound in agony.
"You should have stayed dead, Whitlock!" Vance snarled, reaching into his jacket for a backup knife.
Mercer recovered from the deck, brought the captured submachine gun up, and racked the bolt. "Freeze, Arthur!"
Vance stopped, the blade glistening in his hand, inches from Erin's chest. He looked at the barrel of the weapon pointed at his face, then at Vice Admiral Mercer's iron expression.
"You won't shoot me, Nathaniel," Vance sneered, his voice wet from the sprinklers. "I'm a three-star General. You fire that weapon, and your career is over. You'll spend the rest of your life in a brig at Leavenworth."
"My career ended eleven years ago when I let you convince me that Silent Horizon was a tragic accident," Mercer said softly.
He didn't pull the trigger. Instead, he reached up to his shoulder mic with his left hand and pressed the master shipboard emergency broadcast button.
"Bridge, this is Admiral Mercer," his voice echoed across every speaker on the 100,000-ton aircraft carrier. "Security Condition Zebra. We have an unauthorized black-ops intrusion team in Medical Bay 4. Deploy all available Marine Corps security platoons immediately. Authorize lethal force."
Vance's face went completely pale.
Across the ship, heavy security alarms began to wail. The sound of hundreds of heavy combat boots stomping down the steel ladders resonated through the bulkheads like thunder.
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Vance looked at Mercer, then at Erin bleeding on the floor, realizing his window of silence had closed forever. "You've ruined everything, Mercer. You have no idea what you've unleashed."
"I've unleashed the United States Navy, General," Mercer replied coolly. "Now drop the knife."
