Chapter 26 - Ice and Fire
Trapped between two armed SUVs and the freezing expanse of Lake Geneva, most people would have surrendered.
Marcus Sterling was not most people. And Claire Sterling was no ordinary bride.
"Claire! Can you hotwire a boat?!" Marcus yelled over the roar of approaching engines, laying down suppressive fire with his pistol to keep the SUV mercenaries behind their doors.
"I took nautical mechanics at Yale, Marcus! Just get us on board!" Claire shouted back, sprinting toward a private white yacht docked twenty feet down the wooden pier.
Claire vaulted over the boat's railing, pulled a hair clip from her hair, and jammed it into the ignition module beneath the fiberglass dashboard, bypassing the electronic security system with practiced speed.
The twin 450-horsepower V8 engines roared to life with a deep, thunderous growl.
"Marcus! Jump!" Claire screamed, throwing the throttle forward into reverse.
Marcus fired his final round into the radiator of the leading SUV, turned, and launched his large frame off the edge of the wooden pier just as a barrage of bullets chewed through the dock planks behind him.
He landed heavily onto the rear deck of the yacht, rolling quickly to avoid incoming fire.
Claire slammed the throttle into full drive. The yacht surged forward, slicing through the icy, black waters of Lake Geneva at fifty knots, leaving a trail of white foam in its wake.
Behind them, Victor’s black speedboat gave chase, its heavy machine gun mounted on the bow opening fire, tracer rounds cutting through the night air, splashing into the water around them.
"He’s gaining on us!" Claire yelled, holding the steering wheel tight as the boat bounced violently over the freezing waves.
Marcus crawled to the rear deck, pulling a flare gun from the yacht's emergency locker. He loaded a magnesium heat-flare into the barrel.
"Claire! Turn thirty degrees left on my mark!" Marcus commanded, standing tall against the biting wind, unbothered by the bullets spraying around him.
"Mark!"
Claire yanked the wheel left. The yacht leaned sharply into a hard bank.
Marcus aimed the flare gun directly at the trailing speedboat's exposed fuel tank vent. He pulled the trigger.
The burning magnesium flare struck the fuel line with pinpoint accuracy.
A massive fireball erupted across the surface of Lake Geneva. The explosion threw a column of orange flame fifty feet into the night sky, illuminating the snow-covered Alps in brilliant, terrifying light.
Victor’s boat lost control, spinning wildly out of the water before coming to a dead halt, engulfed in flames.
Inside the cockpit of their yacht, Claire let out a long, ragged breath, her hands shaking slightly against the steering wheel.
Marcus stepped up behind her. He wrapped his large, warm arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, burying his face into the soft curve of her neck.
"Are you alright, my queen?" Marcus whispered, his heart pounding against her back.
May you like
Claire leaned back into his solid heat, closing her eyes as the boat glided smoothly into the safety of the dark Swiss night.
"I’m perfect, Marcus," Claire murmured softly, turning her head to press a gentle kiss to his jawline. "Now let's go open your father's letter."
