Page 42 of Oleander

Luke ordered both boats wider apart and reduced speed. Hex’s team shifted behind reinforced panels. Eric relayed the threat to the Coast Guard and transmitted the live drone feed. The cutter was twelve minutes away. Twelve minutes was nothing on a clock and an indecent amount of time in open water.

The dolphins reacted before the men did. A sharp mechanical chatter entered the water from the security boat. One animal veered hard. Luke felt alarm ripple through the pod.

“They dropped something,” he said. “Powered. Small.”

The drone camera found a compact underwater unit descending from the stern, its propeller spinning. Whether sensor, decoy, or weapon, Luke did not wait to learn by sacrificing a dolphin. He pushed a warning through the pod. They scattered beyond its path, then regrouped ahead of the Imperium.

Hex’s voice came level over the radio.

“I can disable the escort’s engine.”

“Negative,” Luke said. “Not unless they fire.”

“You never let me have hobbies.”

A muzzle flash answered them from the security boat. The shot struck water fifty yards short, warning rather than accuracy. A second flash followed, closer. Luke ducked behind the console as Cam turned hard, throwing a wall of spray between them and the shooter.

“Hobby approved,” Luke said.

Hex’s boat accelerated across the escort’s stern while his drone plunged low, lights blazing suddenly into the gunmen’s faces. The distraction lasted seconds. It was enough. A precisely placed round shattered the exposed housing beside the escort’s outboard controls.

Hex’s men immediately ceased fire. The dark boat yawed, lost speed, and began turning helplessly in its own wake.

“Engine disabled,” Hex reported. “Egos remain tragically operational.”

The security men raised weapons again, but a new sound rolled across the Gulf: the deep amplified warning of the approaching cutter. Its searchlight swept the water, found the disabled boat, then reached past it to the Imperium. Blue lights ignited against the horizon.

The Imperium increased speed. One engine screamed through the dolphins’ hearing, its rhythm rough and deteriorating. On the drone feed, Hollis stood outside the bridge shouting at the captain. An armed man dragged a crew member away from the controls. Another headed below carrying the fireproof document bin.

Luke’s pulse steadied. Chaos had shape now. Hollis would try to destroy the remaining evidence, force the failing engine, and use his own crew as insulation against anyone boarding. Every bad decision came from the same belief: that his will outweighed consequence.

Luke keyed the common channel.

“Imperium, this is a civilian vessel operating in support of federal authorities. Reduce speed and comply with Coast Guard instructions. Your starboard engine is showing signs of failure. Continuing at power endangers everyone aboard.”

Static answered. Then Hollis’s voice burst through, distorted but unmistakable.

“You have no authority. Stay away from my vessel.”

Cam leaned toward Luke’s microphone.

“Your vessel sounds like a washing machine full of hubcaps and we have more authority than you can possibly imagine.”

There was a long stretch of silence, Hollis screaming at his new security team.

“Who are you?” he demanded. Luke laughed.

“Tell your security team, we are LEGACY.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“I’m done,” said one man dropping his weapon. “No amount of money is worth facing them.”

“They’re just men,” screamed Hollis. “Flesh and blood. They will die just easily by a bullet.”

“You obviously know nothing about the security world, Mr. Burton. LEGACY is exactly that. A legacy of the most feared men who ever served in the armed forces special operations groups. I won’t die for that. Anyone else, we could handle. Not them.”

“You cowards!” he screamed. The men turned and walked to the lower decks, taking the small boat that had been moored behind them. The small remaining crew stared at him, the engineer covered in oil and grease.