Chapter 48: The Sovereign Protocol
Chapter 48: The Sovereign Protocol
Sarah clipped her harness to the chopper’s cable. The winch roared to life, dragging her up into the freezing rain before dropping her straight onto the helipad of The Sovereign.
She hit the deck hard, rolling through the wet fiberglass, her Sig Sauer drawn before she even stood up.
Two guards rushed the pad, but Sarah didn't hesitate. She fired four rounds, her hands perfectly steady, dropping both men into the dark water below. The months of survival, the terror in the delivery room, the betrayal of her family—it had all burned away, leaving only a weapon designed for one purpose: protection.
She kicked through the mahogany doors of the main cabin.
The interior was silent, decorated in gold and dark wood. Sitting in a leather armchair at the far end of the cabin was an old man with a thin, aristocratic face, wearing a simple wool cardigan. He was holding baby Hope in his lap, a small silver bottle of milk in his hand.
He didn't look up when Sarah entered.
"She has an excellent appetite, Mrs. Sterling," the old man said, his English accent thick and heavy with centuries of old money. "A very resilient child. Quite like her grandfather."
"Get your hands off my daughter," Sarah said, the red laser dot of her Sig Sauer steady on the center of his forehead.
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The man sighed, gently setting the bottle down on a side table. "My name is Lord Alistair Vance. I am James's uncle. The one who built the foundation before your father stole the capital in '99."
He looked up, his eyes milky with cataracts but sharp as needles. "You think you've won because you made it onto this boat? The encryption sequence is complete, Sarah. The Sterling trust is gone. The Vance legacy is gone. We own everything now. If you pull that trigger, the crew will drop this vessel's scuttle valves. We go to the bottom of the Thames, and your daughter goes with us."
