Chapter 13 - "DON'T SHOOT, DADDY'S HERE"
There was no time to draw a weapon. There was no time to shout a warning.
I launched myself across the icy deck of the tugboat, closing the ten paces between us like a missile.
Sterling pulled the trigger.
The flare gun detonated with a blinding flash of white-hot phosphorus. I slammed my forearm into the barrel at the precise instant of ignition, knocking the trajectory upward. The white-hot magnesium charge hissed harmlessly into the stormy sky, burning a blinding streak through the storm clouds before plunging into the black swells fifty yards away.
The recoil tore the weapon from Sterling’s grip.
We slammed together into the steel deck plating. Sterling was larger than me, fueled by the berserk adrenaline of a trapped predator, gouging at my eyes, clawing at my torn shoulder.
“You ruined everything!” he screamed into my face, his breath foul with bile. “I built this country’s defense! You’re just a grunt who got lucky!”
I pinned his wrists against the steel deck with one hand, despite the fire raging in my fractured collarbone. With the other hand, I ripped the gold general’s stars from his shoulder epaulets and crushed them into his bleeding palm.
“You didn't build anything, Victor,” I growled, inches from his face. “You stole from the men who bled in the sand, and you stole from children who couldn't fight back. You aren't a soldier. You’re a thief.”
A searchlight suddenly turned the night into noon.
A thunderous mechanical beat shook the air above us. A United States Coast Guard MH-60 Jayhawk helicopter hovered thirty feet over our masts, its rescue swimmer sliding down the winch cable directly onto our deck.
Behind it, two blue-and-white Chicago Police marine patrol cutters pulled alongside the tugboat, their blue strobe lights painting the freezing rain in flashes of sapphire and diamond.
Miller had delivered the hard drives. The city, the state, and the Department of Defense were waking up.
The rescue swimmer dropped onto the deck, carbine at the low ready. “General Ross! Step away from the suspect! We have the area secured!”
I slowly stood up, letting Sterling lie groveling in the freezing bilge water.
I looked across the narrow gap to the fireboat.
May you like
In the warm glow of the wheelhouse window, Lucas and Emily were pressed against the glass, side by side, their small hands joined together against the pane. Lucas was pointing at me, tears streaming down his face, smiling with the radiant joy of a boy whose father had moved the earth to bring him home.
I raised my right hand to the brim of my cap, giving my son the first real military salute of my entire life.
