CHAPTER 66

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HERCULES AUSTRALIS

Jake reared back and hurled a right hook into Zanderthal's chin.

He had to strike first. Everyone's lives depended on it. He appeared bigger and stronger than the chairman of Ocean Blue. The billionaire should have hit the deck, lights out, but his neck only turned with the blow while his body stood firm, feet planted.

With a lust for the battle to come, Zanderthal stared at Jake. "You'll have to do better than that." The chairman lunged forward and counter punched, rage burning across his face.

Jake backpedaled and ducked to the side, his reaction too slow. The shot landed on the chin and sent him careening backwards, tumbling toward a row of guards. The men scurried to get out of the way, one of them not quick enough, taking the brunt of Jake's body with his kneecaps. Cartilage crunched and ligaments snapped, followed by a shriek of pain.

The floodlights above the bridge blinked off and on. Or was it his brain fighting to remain conscious? After shrugging off a wave of dizziness, Jake decided the ship didn't have a lighting issue. It was his body trying to recover from the chairman's blow.

Zanderthal waited for his adversary to rise. Jake wasn't about to disappoint him. He pushed to his feet, staggered a step, and regained his balance.

"You'll have to do better than that," Jake said, shaking his head, trying to clear the daze.

"Oh, I can. Much better."

Somehow, he had to get Zanderthal on the ground to have a chance, and even then, he didn't like the odds. The thought of Tony getting killed by Ishikawa and Sarah being left to their wicked devices caused a stubborn rage to build inside him. Jake summoned a fiery determination and charged Zanderthal. He lowered his shoulder and used it as a battering ram... his goal was dead ahead, the chairman's midriff. If any part of Zanderthal's body was vulnerable, it would be the spot between his chest and waist. Jake roared toward him, racing across the deck with long strides.

His shoulder bored into Zanderthal, but the impact only drove him back a few steps. It didn't come close to toppling him.

Zanderthal clasped his hands and pounded his interlocked fists into Jake's back. The sheer power flattened him to the floor, his breath blown out of him.

Jake was about to rise when Zanderthal yanked him by the collar and flung him toward a group of guards. This time, none of them got out of the way. The pile of legs and arms bent and crumpled beneath his body.

Zanderthal strolled toward him. He seemed lost in the moment, enjoying it.

Jake freed his leg and straightened it out with a kick. The heel of his dive boot struck the chin of a guard. The man's eyes rolled back in his head.

One down. Many more to go.

In order to get up from the mass of wriggling soldiers, he gripped a man's utility belt for leverage, and his fingers stumbled upon the guard's pistol.

Jake flicked the holster strap with his thumb, slipped the weapon out, and lurched up from the heap. Quickly, he tucked the gun behind his back. With that section on the outer fringes of the bridge lights, it appeared Zanderthal didn't see what he did. His confidence grew when the chairman showed no hesitation in coming forward and shouted no orders to his guards to disarm him.

Jake rubbed a warm wetness from his chin, and was about to return to the fight, when someone yelled from the pile of men. "He's got my bloody gun."

Tony whistled to get Jake's attention. It was one of those high-pitched notes with his fingers over his bottom lip. Jake whipped around to see Tony reaching down inside the front of his pants to his crotch.

Jake wagged his head. Seriously.

An explosion boomed off the icebreaker's port side. The blast rocked the ship like a powerful earthquake, toppling Jake and everyone else, except for Sarah and Tony. As Jake fell, they grabbed a hold of the ship's side railings. He wasn't as fortunate and crashed to the deck.

At a slanted angle, Jake rose to his feet and struggled for balance. The ship was taking on water—fast—the charge Ishikawa missed more than strong enough to penetrate the hull of the Hercules Australis.

He swung toward the stairwell that led below deck.

Although the floodlights from the bridge didn't reach the stairway, he still glimpsed Sarah and Tony as they hustled away and disappeared to the lower levels.

Zanderthal plodded toward him.

His only recourse was the pistol he stole from the guard. With a quick swipe, he wrapped his fingers around the gun's handle and pointed it at Zanderthal. He was about to fire when an arm latched onto his ankle and threatened to throw off his aim.

Jake lashed his leg free with a flare of resilience, raised it up and brought it down on the man's head. Without looking, he knew the blow had incapacitated the guard. His gaze shifted back to Zanderthal, ten paces away.

Jake lowered the gun and squeezed the trigger. Before the discharge faded, he whipped the barrel to the right and fired again. The rounds ripped through both of the chairman's thighs.

Zanderthal collapsed, his legs gushing blood.

That was all Jake needed to see. He burst for the stairwell. Along the way, one of Zanderthal's men tried to stop him, but another well-placed boot sent him flailing back to the deck.

Clear of the horde, he paused short of the top step. Half of the guards were on their feet now, not expecting the explosion as he did. Some of them struggled to stand on the tilted deck while others were out cold. But Zanderthal surprised him. He used one of his men as a brace and shook off the wounds as if they were stings from a hornet.

"I knew you were a coward!"

Jake glanced back, but resisted a reply and thundered down the stairs.

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