Chapter 9: The Coast Guard Standoff
Marcus staggered backward, realizing he was entirely outplayed. His empire, his reputation, and his private army had been dismantled in less than twenty minutes.
With a feral snarl, he turned and sprinted toward the VIP emergency exit leading to the helipad.
"Let him run," Elena said calmly as Julian took a step to pursue.
Outside, the roar of a helicopter engine began to spin up. Marcus sprinted across the top deck, the icy wind whipping his silver hair. He threw open the door to his private chopper, screaming at the pilot. "Take off! Get me to the airstrip now!"
But the pilot didn't move. Slowly, the man in the aviator helmet turned around. He reached up, pulled off the helmet, and revealed a badge hanging from a heavy tactical vest.
"FBI, Mr. Blackwood," the agent said dryly. "Please step away from the aircraft."
Marcus froze. He spun around, looking out at the churning ocean.
Emerging from the darkness of the sea, completely surrounding the Leviathan, were five heavily armored Coast Guard cutters. Their massive searchlights clicked on in unison, blinding the yacht in a crossfire of brilliant white light. A megaphone blared over the roaring waves.
“This is the United States Coast Guard and the Federal Bureau of Investigation! The vessel is surrounded. Stand down and prepare to be boarded!”
Elena walked out onto the deck, the ocean breeze catching her gold silk gown, making her look like a goddess of vengeance glowing in the searchlights. Julian stood right behind her, a protective shadow.
"I sent the decrypted ledger to the FBI Director ten minutes ago," Elena said, her voice loud enough to carry over the wind. "Along with the coordinates to this yacht. You're done, Marcus. Your assets are frozen, your properties are seized, and you are going to rot in a federal maximum-security cell for the rest of your miserable life."
Marcus fell to his knees on the damp teakwood deck, his hands shaking as the FBI agents swarmed the helipad and slammed him face-first onto the ground, snapping heavy steel cuffs onto his wrists.
He looked up at Elena one last time, sheer hatred burning in his eyes. "You bitch... you took everything from me!"
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Elena walked forward, crouching down slightly so she was eye-level with the ruined man.
"No, Marcus," she whispered, her eyes as cold as the Atlantic Ocean. "I just took back what was mine."
