"Report back in ten minutes," I ordered through the ship's communication system. I commanded the vessel to proceed. The officer on the other end responded, trembling slightly, "Understood, Sir. But the nuclear heating repairs... they're beyond our standards—"
"The order stands! Get out of San Isidro harbor, now!" I bellowed, capitalizing on the fabricated energy emergency I had linked to the Blackfire Protocol financial crisis I'd orchestrated previously.
Good work. The ship was moving. Speed 12 knots, out of the Sanctuary Isles safe zone and into open water, heading toward Ethereal Island, Juri reported. I turned, grinning at Pavel, who was trembling in his seat. He had become a pawn. Just then, Juri transmitted a subtle pressure to my right arm. It wasn't a command contact; it was a de
