IN LOVE WITH MY BROTHER'S WIFE

EPISODE 11

"Flush them out! Sector Four! Don't let them reach the bridge!"

The mercenary’s voice barked over a loudspeaker, echoing through the canyons of steel containers.

"Move," I hissed, grabbing Sarah’s hand.

We sprinted down a narrow alleyway between two towering stacks of shipping crates. The rain was torrential now, turning the steel deck into a skating rink. Every step was a gamble. One slip, and we would slide right off the side of the ship into the black ocean.

"They're coming from the bow," Sarah gasped, looking over her shoulder. Beams of tactical flashlights swept the darkness behind us. Sweep. Sweep.

"We need to go up," I said. "We can't hide on the deck. They'll corner us."

I pointed to a maintenance ladder welded to the side of a blue container.

"Climb," I ordered.

Sarah didn't argue. She holstered the flare gun—it was empty anyway—and grabbed the rungs. She scrambled up, her boots slipping on the wet metal. I followed right behind her, using my body to shield her from the view below.

We reached the top of the first container. Then the second. We kept climbing until we were four containers high—nearly forty feet above the main deck.

The wind up here was ferocious. It tore at our clothes and stung our eyes. But the view gave us an advantage. We could see the flashlights of the kill squad moving below us like confused fireflies.

"Get down," I whispered.

We flattened ourselves against the cold, corrugated roof of a red container. We lay side by side, pressing our faces into the wet metal.

"Jack," Sarah whispered. Her voice was right in my ear. "Danny... he saw us. He smiled."

I felt her shaking against me. It wasn't the cold. It was the horror.

"He's gone, Sarah," I said low and hard. "The man you married... he isn't on this ship. That thing down there is something else."

"He looked at me like I was a stranger," she choked out. "Like I was just a target."

"You're not a target," I said. "You're a witness. And that makes you dangerous to him."

Below us, the mercenaries were shouting.

"Clear on the port side! Check the starboard stack!"

They were moving away from us. We had a few minutes.

"Look," Sarah said, pointing toward the bow of the ship.

From our high vantage point, we had a clear view of the forward deck. The floodlights were trained on the water.

Danny was still there. He was standing by the railing, looking down at the ocean. He was holding the tablet computer like a conductor's baton.

And the prisoner—the crewman they had dragged out of the cage—was gone.

"Where is the man?" Sarah asked.

"In the water," I said grimly. "Danny threw him in."

"Why?"

"To feed the shark," I said.

Suddenly, the water off the port bow began to churn. It wasn't a wave. It was a boil. Green light glowed from beneath the surface, cutting through the black storm.

The ship’s loudspeaker crackled. Danny’s voice boomed out.

"Gentlemen," Danny said. He wasn't talking to us. He was talking into a headset, broadcasting to someone else. Maybe the buyers. "Observe the efficiency of the AGU-Mk4. Target acquisition time: twelve seconds."

In the water, the green light surged.

A scream cut through the wind. It was faint, wet, and terrified. The crewman was out there, bobbing in the freezing swells.

Then, the water erupted.

A shape breached the surface. It looked like a torpedo, sleek and black. But it had arms. Mechanical claws. And a single, glowing green eye in the center of a domed head.

It wasn't a man in a suit. Elias was right. It was a machine. A drone built for killing.

It hit the swimmer with the force of a freight train.

The scream was cut short. There was a splash of red—visible even in the dark water—and then the man was dragged under.

Gone.

The green light faded back into the deep.

Sarah buried her face in my shoulder. She clamped her hands over her ears.

"Oh god," she sobbed. "Oh god."

I stared at the water. My blood ran cold.

Danny wasn't just smuggling a virus. He was selling a pack of autonomous underwater terminators. And he had just fed a human being to one of them as a sales pitch.

"The demonstration is complete," Danny’s voice said over the speakers. He sounded bored. "Transfer the second half of the payment. We arrive in international waters in two hours."

"Two hours," I whispered. "We have two hours to stop this ship."

"How?" Sarah lifted her head. Her eyes were wet, but the fear was hardening into rage again. "We can't fight those things in the water."

"No," I said. "We fight them here. We take the bridge. If we stop the ship, the drones lose their signal tether."

I looked at the superstructure of the ship—the massive white tower at the stern where the bridge was located. It was a fortress.

"We have to move," I said. "Across the tops of the containers. It's the only way to bypass the guards."

We moved like cats across the rooftops of the floating city. We jumped gaps between the stacks, landing silently on the wet steel.

It was exhausting. My legs burned. My injured shoulder throbbed with every jump.

But we were getting closer to the tower.

Suddenly, Sarah slipped.

We were jumping a three-foot gap. She landed on the edge of the container. Her boot lost traction on the slick paint.

"Jack!"

She slid backward.

I lunged. I grabbed her wrist just as she went over the edge.

She dangled forty feet above the deck.

"Don't let go!" I gritted my teeth, digging my boots into a rivet line.

"I can't pull myself up!" she cried. "My vest is caught!"

Her tactical vest had snagged on a locking mechanism on the corner of the container. She was stuck.

"Hold on," I grunted.

I lay flat on my stomach, reaching down with my other hand. I grabbed her vest strap.

"I'm going to lift you," I said. "On three. One. Two. Three!"

I hauled her up. The metal clip snapped. She scrambled over the edge, collapsing on top of me.

We lay there in the rain, tangled together, breathing hard.

"You saved me," she whispered. Her face was inches from mine.

"Always," I said.

The adrenaline was pumping through us like rocket fuel. The fear of falling mixed with the relief of survival.

She looked at my lips. Then at my eyes.

"Jack," she said. "I'm scared."

"I know."

"Not of the fall," she said. "I'm scared of what I'm becoming. I just watched a man die and... I didn't look away. I wanted to kill Danny. I actually wanted to kill him."

"That's not you," I said. "That's the survival instinct."

"Is it?" She shifted, her body pressing against mine. Even through the thick vests and wet clothes, I could feel her heat. "Or is it because I'm with you? You make me brave, Jack. But you also make me dangerous."

"Dangerous is good," I said. "Dangerous keeps you alive."

She leaned down and kissed me. It was quick, fierce. A spark in the dark.

"Let's go take the ship," she said.

We scrambled up and continued our run.

We reached the base of the white tower. The bridge was six decks up.

We climbed down the side of the container stack, dropping onto the walkway.

The door to the superstructure was heavy steel. It was labeled CREW QUARTERS.

I tried the handle. Locked.

I pulled out the master keycard—the one Maya gave me, the one Danny had left in the bank.

I swiped it.

Red light. Access denied.

"Danny changed the codes," I cursed.

"Try the window," Sarah whispered.

She pointed to a porthole next to the door. It was small, but the glass was thick.

"We can't break that without making noise," I said.

Then, the door opened.

A crew member stepped out. He was holding a mop bucket. He looked tired. He wasn't a mercenary. He was just a sailor.

He saw us. His eyes went wide.

"Who are—"

I didn't let him finish. I tackled him.

I drove him back into the hallway, slamming him against the wall. I put my hand over his mouth.

"Quiet!" I hissed. "Or I break your neck!"

The sailor nodded frantically, his eyes terrified.

"We're not going to hurt you," Sarah said, stepping inside and closing the door behind us. "We just want to stop the ship."

I lowered my hand slowly.

"You're the stowaways," the sailor whispered. "The Captain said there were terrorists on board."

"The Captain is working for terrorists," I said. "Where are the mercenaries?"

"On the bridge," the sailor said. "And in the engine room. They have guns. They locked the rest of the crew in the mess hall."

"How many on the bridge?" I asked.

"Four," the sailor said. "Plus the man in the raincoat. The leader."

"Danny," I said.

"Listen to me," I told the sailor. "Go to the mess hall. Tell the crew to stay down. If you hear shooting, don't be a hero."

The sailor nodded and ran down the hall.

"Four guards plus Danny," Sarah said. "We have one knife and a master key that doesn't work."

"We need a distraction," I said. "A big one."

I looked at the hallway map on the wall.

ENGINE CONTROL ROOM - DECK 2. FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEM - MAIN VALVE.

I smiled. A cold, hard smile.

"Danny likes fire," I said. "Let's give him a flood."

"The fire suppression system?" Sarah asked. "It uses CO2?"

"No," I said. "On a ship this size, it uses foam. High-expansion foam. If we trigger the manual release for the bridge deck... the whole room will fill with white foam in ten seconds. They won't be able to see their hands in front of their faces."

"And we will?"

"We'll know it's coming," I said. "We hold our breath. We go in low."

We crept up the stairwell. Deck 3. Deck 4. Deck 5.

We reached the door to the bridge on Deck 6.

Outside the door, on the wall, was a red box behind glass. MANUAL RELEASE.

"Ready?" I asked Sarah. I handed her the knife. "Stay behind me. If anyone grabs you, stab them. Don't think. Just stab."

She took the knife. Her hand was steady.

"Ready."

I used the butt of the flare gun to smash the glass. c***k.

I pulled the yellow lever down.

WHOOSH.

Inside the bridge, we heard a sudden, loud hissing sound. Like a thousand snakes.

"What the hell?" a voice shouted inside.

Then, screaming. "I can't see! It's everywhere!"

I kicked the door open. BANG.

We charged in.

It was chaos. The bridge was filling rapidly with thick, white foam. It was already waist-high and rising fast. It looked like a blizzard.

Mercenaries were shouting, firing their guns blindly into the ceiling. POP-POP-POP.

I stayed low, crawling through the foam. I swept the leg of the first man I saw. He went down with a splash. I punched him hard in the jaw, knocking him out.

I grabbed his rifle. An MP5 submachine gun.

"Drop it!" I roared, standing up. The foam was at my chest now.

I saw shadows moving in the white mist.

Two mercenaries stumbled toward the door, coughing. I pointed the gun.

"Down! Get down!"

They raised their hands, dropping their weapons. They were blinded by the chemical foam.

"Sarah, secure the door!" I yelled.

She slammed the bridge door shut and locked it. We were sealed in.

"Danny!" I shouted into the white fog. "It's over!"

Silence.

Then, a laugh.

It came from the captain's chair, near the front windows.

The foam hadn't reached that high yet. Danny was sitting in the chair, his feet resting on the console. He was wearing a gas mask.

He looked like a giant insect.

"Over?" Danny's muffled voice said. "Jack, Jack, Jack. You really don't understand technology, do you?"

He tapped the console.

"I didn't need the bridge to control the drones," Danny said. "And I don't need the bridge to steer the ship."

He pointed out the front window.

I looked.

The Leviathan wasn't turning. It was heading straight for a massive, dark shape on the horizon. A storm front? No.

An island.

A rocky, jagged island rising out of the sea.

"Collision course," Danny said. "Five minutes."

"You're going to crash the ship?" I aimed the gun at him. "Turn it or I shoot!"

"Shoot me," Danny taunted, spreading his arms. "And you'll never find the kill-switch for the virus. The canisters are rigged to the ship's hull integrity. If this ship hits those rocks... the canisters breach. The virus goes airborne. And the drones go into 'Hunt Mode' to kill any survivors."

He stood up.

"I'm not crashing the ship, Jack. You are. I'm leaving."

He pressed a button on his belt.

The side door of the bridge—the one leading to the exterior wing—burst open. The wind howled in, blowing the foam into a vortex.

Danny sprinted for the door.

"Stop him!" Sarah screamed.

I fired. RAT-TAT-TAT.

Bullets chewed up the Captain's chair, but Danny was fast. He dove through the door, out into the storm.

"He's going for the lifeboat!" I yelled.

I ran to the console. I looked at the navigation screen.

IMPACT IN 4 MINUTES.

"Can you stop it?" Sarah cried, wading through the foam to my side.

I grabbed the wheel. It was locked.

"He locked the helm!" I shouted. "It's on autopilot!"

I looked at the controls. Password Required.

"Sarah, try the password! Try everything!"

"I'm going after him," I said.

"Jack, no!"

"He has the kill-switch!" I yelled. "If he leaves, we all die!"

I threw the gun down. It was useless in the wind.

I ran out the side door, into the rain.

I looked down.

Danny was sliding down a cable toward a small, sleek speedboat that was being towed alongside the ship. A fast getaway craft.

He landed in the boat. He looked up at me. He pulled off his gas mask.

He grinned.

"Bye, Jack!" he shouted.

I didn't think. I didn't calculate.

I jumped.

I leaped from the wing of the bridge, sixty feet down, aiming for the tiny moving boat in the black water.