Chapter 3 The Infiltration of the Leviathan
Dropping.
20,000 feet. Free-fall. Bodies arrow-straight, cutting through the storm.
15,000 feet. Nyx's voice crackled in their earpieces. "Scans rotating, starboard side blind in 3, 2, 1, GO."
12,000 feet. They banked hard right, riding the thermal shadows as the ship's infrared sensors swept the sky where they should have been.
Lightning split the dark. For a heartbeat, Aris saw it—the Leviathan, a monstrous red scar on the black ocean.
10,000 feet. Using the thermal goggles to look down, Aris spotted the Leviathan. His grandfather's work was flawless: a retractable helipad, a sonar-dampened hull, and missile pods slick under tarpaulins. Guard patrols moved like clockwork.
<< CHUTE DEPLOY: 5,000 FEET >>
Too high. Too soon. The ship would spot the canopies. "Nyx," Aris growled.
"Working!" Static followed. "They're using a new algorithm, military-grade. I can't freeze it, but I can distract it." A pulse of corrupted data hit the Leviathan's systems. For three seconds, its scans stuttered, focusing on a ghost signal a kilometer north.
<< NOW >>
They pulled their chutes.
WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP.
Black canopies opened, stealth-coated, radar-diffusing, heat-shedding. But the storm fought them. Wind shear yanked the lines, threatening to spin them into the sea. Rook snarled as a gust nearly flipped him. Wraith adjusted her harness, riding the turbulence like a blade through smoke. Aris's HUD flickered. << SCAN RELOCKING >> Too slow.
They were still exposed. "Cut loose," he ordered. They released their chutes. The canopies tore away, swallowed by the gale. They dropped again a controlled dive, arms tight, legs braced. 500 feet. The ocean roared beneath them. 300 feet. Salt spray stung Aris's visor. 100 feet. Impact.
Black water engulfed them. Depth charges of icy pressure. Sound vanished. The world was dark and weightless. Aris's thermal dampeners activated, making him a shadow in the Leviathan's sonar.
Rook and Wraith surfaced silently, clinging to the ship's barnacled hull. Above, the storm raged. Below, vengeance awaited. The Crimson Leviathan loomed, a fortress. A tomb. And they were already on guard. Aris's palms slammed against the Crimson Leviathan's hull. Magnetic gloves activated with a thrum. Rain streamed off the blood-dark steel as he began the climb.
Rook and Wraith flanked him. Rook climbed like a bear, grunting as mag-clamps anchored through rust. Wraith flowed upward like ink, silent and deadly. Above, guards patrolled the rain-lashed deck. Below, the Atlantic roared.
Lightning struck. A flash froze them against the hull, three shadows on a steel cliff.
"CONTACT! STARBOARD SIDE!" a guard screamed.
Bullets sparked off plating beside Aris's head. Rook roared, ripping a hull plate free and hurling it upward toward the guard, knocking him out.
Upon reaching the deck, the three understood their roles. Rook would distract the guards who heard the gunshots, while Aris sought Silas in the sleeping quarters. Wraith would prepare the Fulton for extraction. Knowing this, they began their tasks.
Rook grabbed the guard's weapon and ran to the east side of the ship with some micro-charges to create a distraction. This allowed the others to proceed with their plan. Wraith had a small backpack. She pulled out a box with curved edges and a round circle at the center, along with two straps on both sides.
She planted it on the side of the ship and strapped the box to herself. Then she pulled out another box to secure it to the ship while the other strap waited for the target. Meanwhile, Rook started his distraction, creating panic on the deck as guards filed out one by one to stop him.
Rook immediately began using his gun and some smoke charges to pin down certain guards. He employed his martial arts skills to subdue the rest, giving Aris a chance to move undetected.
Aris ran down the metal steps to find his uncle with help from his hacker Nyx.
"It's the last floor to your right," Nyx informed Aris.
When Aris reached the floor, he found his uncle lying on a soft bed, completely relaxed. Clenching his fist, Aris approached Silas. Aris slammed the syringe into Silas's neck. "Sssh. Just a numbing agent," he hissed as his uncle thrashed, numb so he wouldn't feel anything while Aris carried him to the deck. Just as he was about to lift Silas—
CRASH!