Chapter 8 - The Strike on the Rig
The rain pounded violently against the hull of the midnight-black tactical helicopter as it flew low over the stormy, churning waters of the North Sea. The waves below rose like black mountains, but the aircraft moved with precise, military stability.
Ethan sat near the open side door, wearing a full tactical uniform, an advanced assault rifle strapped securely to his chest. Beside him sat Julian and six elite maritime security operators, their faces completely covered by dark ballistic masks.
“Two minutes to target, Boss!” the pilot shouted over the roar of the rotors. “The rig is completely dark! They’ve jammed all standard radar, but our thermal imaging shows eight armed hostiles occupying the main command platform!”
“Rules of engagement are simple, gentlemen,” Ethan said, his voice echoing clearly through the tactical headsets. “Secure the server terminal, eliminate the threat, and restore the navigation links. No hesitation. These men are mercenaries who took blood money to destroy our family.”
“Roger that, Sir!” the operators responded in unison.
The helicopter flared over the rusted, metallic helipad of the abandoned oil rig. Before the aircraft could even settle against the steel deck, Ethan dropped down the fast-rope, hitting the slippery surface with absolute precision, his weapon already raised.
Pop-pop-pop!
A Cerberus mercenary leaning over the upper railing fired a burst of automatic rounds toward the deck, the sparks illuminating the dark sky. Ethan didn't even flinch. He rolled behind a heavy iron crane, raised his rifle, and fired three precise shots through the darkness. The hostile let out a sharp cry, tumbling over the railing, hitting the sea below.
“Move up! Alpha team, secure the flanking stairs! Julian, with me to the main server hub!” Ethan commanded, moving through the metallic maze of the rig like a shadow.
The mercenary team was highly trained, but they were entirely unprepared for the sheer, unyielding fury of a brother fighting for his sister's legacy. Within six minutes of breaching the structure, Ethan’s team had successfully cleared the main platform, neutralizing the hostiles without a single casualty on their side.
Ethan kicked open the heavy steel door of the central control room. Inside, a brilliant, high-tech server array was glowing bright blue, humming loudly as it pumped the hijack signal across the global satellite network.
“Julian, patch into the terminal,” Ethan said, guarding the doorway.
Julian rushed over to the main console, plugging in his decryption override device. “The encryption cipher is falling, Ethan! I’m executing the absolute factory reset protocol right now!”
On the primary wall monitor, the flashing red icons representing the Blackwood container ships suddenly turned back to a bright, stable green. The navigation control had been fully restored to the captains at sea.
“We did it, Boss,” Julian breathed out, leaning against the console, wiping the rain and sweat from his face. “The fleet is safe.”
Ethan walked over to the main server screen. He noticed a final, automated outbound data log on the terminal. Cerberus hadn't just been hijacking the ships; they had been pulling a hidden, secondary file from Margaret’s oldest secure vault.
May you like
Ethan leaned closer, his eyes scanning the file title: “Project Phoenix: The True Heir of Eleanor Blackwood.”
Ethan’s heart stopped. He clicked the file open, and as the text began to render on the screen, his rifle slid out of his hands, clattering loudly against the steel floor.
