Chapter 56 - The Ice-Breaker
"Ambush!" Marcus’s roar thundered from the upper deck, immediately followed by the rhythmic, heavy thump of a .50-caliber machine gun shredding the wheelhouse above us.
Wood splinters and shattered safety glass rained through the hatch.
"Stay down!" I shoved Dante flat against the floorboards, throwing myself over his wounded side as rounds punched clean through the barge’s iron plating, creating whistle holes that vented freezing air into the cabin.
Mateo started screaming from the front cabin.
"Marcus!" I screamed, crawling across the deck, dragging Dante behind an iron bulkhead.
The hatch opened, and Marcus slid down the ladder, his forearm dripping blood, holding his combat rifle. "It’s an armed ice-breaker! Coast Guard markings, but the hull numbers are scrubbed! They’re ramming us!"
A massive, grinding screech echoed through the vessel as the reinforced steel prow of a commercial ice-breaker sheared into our starboard flank. The barge groaned, rolling dangerously to port, water rushing into the lower engine compartment with a violent hiss.
"We have to abandon ship!" Marcus shouted, pulling Mateo from the berth and wrapping him tightly in a survival drysuit. "They have thermal optics! The moment we hit the open ice, they'll cut us down!"
"Not if they're blind," Dante rasped. He dragged himself upright using the edge of the iron bunk, his face drenched in cold sweat, his hand reaching for the emergency flare box mounted to the wall.
"Dante, you can't stand!" I pleaded.
"Marcus," Dante said, ignoring me, his eyes blazing with cold strategic clarity. "The auxiliary fuel line in the bilge... is the bypass valve open?"
Marcus's eyes widened. "Dante, that'll ignite the entire fuel reserve!"
May you like
"Then we better be on the ice when it goes off. Laura, take the flare gun. When I tell you to shoot, you aim for the open hatch of the engine room."
***
