Chapter 17 - The Saboteur’s Signature
Richard Halston’s legal machine tried to make its final stand right there on the wet concrete. His private security team attempted to step between the federal agents and their boss, while shipyard dockworkers in hardhats began gathering along the perimeter fences, murmuring with growing anger as the truth rippled through the yard.
"This is an administrative dispute!" Richard roared as handcuffs clicked around his wrists. "My lawyers will have this quashed before noon! You have no proof the ship isn't seaworthy!"
"The proof is already inside the lines," I said, turning away from him and walking toward the gangway.
"Ellie, wait," Julian called out, running up to the base of the stairs, catching my elbow. "You don't have to go down there. The FBI can impound the vessel at the slipway."
"No," I answered, looking up at the towering grey bulk of the warship. "If the reactor auxiliary system is armed, the pressure build-up has already started on the auxiliary warmup cycle. If the shipyard shut-down procedure is initiated incorrectly, the bypass will lock closed. There are forty technicians trapped in the lower engine flats right now who don't know they’re standing on top of a dormant volcano. I built this class of manifold. I'm the only one who can bleed it down manually."
Admiral Vance stepped to my side, placing a weathered hand on my shoulder. "Ellison, you take my personal aide and a squad of fleet engineers. You get those men out, and you vent that line."
May you like
"Aye aye, Admiral," I said.
I turned and climbed the steel gangplank. Every step was a declaration. With every strike of my titanium limb against the non-skid tread, the whispering ghosts of the *USS Gallant* marched behind me. Four years ago, I had lost my leg trying to save my crew in a flooding engine space. Today, I was walking back into the fire to finish the job.
