Chapter 69 - The Black Fleet Gathers
The sound wasn't an alert from the drive. It was coming from Noah's biometric monitoring bracelet.
I looked down at the tiny silicone strap on his wrist. The digital display, which had previously only shown heart rate and oxygen saturation, had transformed into an active military telemetry interface. A string of encrypted hexadecimal code was rapidly cycling across the tiny OLED screen.
*GPS OVERRIDE: ACTIVE*
*SATELLITE DOWNLINK: ESTABLISHED*
*TARGET LOCATED: CARRIER VESSEL EN ROUTE*
"The enzyme," I gasped, my throat tightening in pure terror. "The stabilizing vial wasn't just medicine."
"What are you talking about?" Marcus raised his rifle, scanning the overcast sky.
"It had a dormant nano-transponder embedded in the synthetic solution," I stammered, frantically trying to cut the silicone band off Noah's wrist with my knife. But as the strap sliced open and fell away, the pinging didn't stop.
The sound was coming from inside Noah's body.
The transponder was cellular. The moment the golden liquid had entered his bloodstream, it had synchronized with his vascular system, using his own biological electrical current to broadcast a low-frequency beacon directly to a high-altitude surveillance satellite.
"Marcus!" one of the perimeter guards screamed from the end of the dock. "We’ve got multiple fast-movers coming in from the sound! No transponders! Black hulls!"
Across the misty gray surface of the bay, three high-speed stealth assault interceptors tore through the fog at sixty knots, their hulls throwing towering walls of white spray. Overhead, the low, rhythmic thrum of heavy twin-rotor gunships cut through the clouds, descending toward the pier like giant, predatory insects.
"Move! To the transport, now!" Marcus shouted, firing a warning flare into the gray sky as his men formed a protective wedge around me.
We sprinted toward the armored SUV, the rain stinging my face. Noah woke up, startled by the deafening roar of the helicopter blades, and began to scream.
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"Get in! Drive!" Marcus shoved me into the reinforced rear cabin, leaping into the passenger seat just as a hail of heavy caliber rounds ripped through the pier's concrete deck, chewing our support vehicle into flaming scrap metal.
The armored SUV accelerated with a violent screech of tires, breaking through the harbor’s perimeter fence and hurtling onto the coastal highway, with three black gunships banking sharply through the rainclouds directly behind us.
