Chapter 8 - TRAPPED ON THE ATLANTIC
The Ocean Empress was a floating palace of decadent wealth and dangerous men. Under the cover of a masked charity ball, champagne flowed, diamond necklaces sparkled under crystal fixtures, and heavily armed mercenaries patrolled the lower decks dressed as private security.
Emma slipped through the lower galley with practiced ease. Dressed in the white-and-black uniform of the ship's catering crew, a silver tray balanced on her arm, she moved like a ghost through the service stairwells. Her heart pounded, but her hands were steady.
Inside her ear, Dominic’s voice was a comforting rumble. "I'm on the main deck, Emma. Moretti is at the central roulette table. You have six minutes before the security system rotates passwords."
"Entering the communication hub now," Emma whispered, slipping a stolen keycard through the heavy steel door of the ship's data room.
The room was chilled, humming with server banks. Emma moved quickly, locating the master terminal. She inserted the black flash drive Dominic had given her. A progress bar crawled across the screen: Decrypting... 42%... 68%... 95%... Complete.
She snatched the drive, her breath releasing in a ragged sigh of relief.
"Well, well. Look what wandered into the pantry."
Emma froze.
Standing in the doorway was Salvatore Moretti himself—a broad, scarred man in his late fifties, his eyes cold and predatory. Behind him stood two hulking guards with suppressed pistols drawn.
"You're the clever little server from the MacArthur gala," Moretti sneered, stepping into the room. "The one who spoiled my sniper’s shot. I have to admit, Rossi has good taste in collateral."
Emma backed away until her spine hit the glowing server rack. "The ledger is already copied and broadcast to federal servers, Moretti. Your little empire is finished."
Moretti laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Maybe. But you won't be around to read the headlines." He signaled his guards. "Put a bullet in her and throw her over the stern."
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Before the guards could raise their weapons, the entire vessel shuddered violently. The lights cut to emergency red as an explosion tore through the lower propulsion deck.
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