CHAPTER 61: IRINA ROMANOVA [2]: AN ATTACK

The walk to the electrical room took a while since the yatch was pretty big. But they soon arrived and the steward walked toward the metal door before unlocking it with a keycard.

The steward stepped aside and gestured inward politely, "here you go, everything’s in working order, so please don’t—"

Ethan said nothing, he just walked past him and directly towards the maintenance panel. The top cover was surprisingly a touch screen which made this a whole lot easier for him.

Taking out his tablet and pretending as if he was running checks, Ethan successfully linked Athena to the yacht’s internal systems.

{Connection established,} Athena confirmed. {Ready when you are.}

Ethan’s fingers moved across the touchscreen, swiping through diagnostic menus as though reviewing safety parameters.

In reality, Athena was slipping past the yacht’s local firewall, making sure she had control over every single part of the yatch, the lights, cameras, doors, gps and every single tech on board.

This was even better than she hoped, since the the boat couldn’t go on lockdown without her permission and even if it did, she’d still be able to access any section pretty easily.

"Alright," Ethan whispered in response, "show me where Irina is."

Soon enough, the entire layout of the of the yatch popped up on the tablet in his hand, thanks to Athena, and a red circle was visible on a certain section of it.

Ethan immediately frowned seeing the red dot. Of course that was Irina’s location but on the map was also multiple other blue dots which meant that those were her bodyguards and getting to her would be an issue.

Luckily, his plan was already underway. Athena just needed to rattle the guards a little and that’d create an opening for him.

Or so he thought, but as soon as he walked back to the main deck, he met a surprise waiting on him.

Ethan kept his pace casual, tablet still in hand, his face set in the same impassive look of someone doing routine work.

He had just stepped past the glass doors leading toward the lounge when a sharp voice cut through the silence.

"There he is!"

Ethan’s eyes flicked toward the source—a tall man in a navy-blue jacket with MARITIME SAFETY INSPECTION embroidered in white across the chest. The man’s expression was stone cold, and two of Irina’s guards were flanking him.

He immediately realized that whatever the situation, it wasn’t good in the least bit and this was confirmed when the man spoke up.

"That’s not our inspector," the man said flatly, striding forward. "Who the hell are you, and how the hell did you get our badge?"

Athena’s voice murmured in his earpiece, {Uh-oh. That’s the actual inspector.}

Before Ethan had the chance to say anything, he was immediately tackled to the ground by guards he had no idea were even there.

Without asking any questions, the Steward took a pistol out of his jacket and pointed it directly at his head.

Athena was ready to immediately shut off all the lights and restrict.every single bit of oxygen that flowed into the yatch but before she or the Steward could do anything, a calm voice caused them all to stop.

"What the hell is going on here?" The voice sounded like one who had just been woken up from sleep and they didn’t appreciate it.

Straining his head from the guards grip, Ethan was able to see exactly who was talking.

Walking down the stairs was a woman with snow-white hair that framed her face in soft waves, though now it was slightly tousled from sleep. She wore silk pajamas the color of champagne, the fabric catching the warm ambient light of the lounge.

The oversized top hung loosely on her frame, its collar slightly open, revealing the effortless elegance of someone who didn’t need to try to command attention.

Her bare feet made almost no sound against the polished deck as she descended the steps, her violet eyes locking immediately onto Ethan with a gaze that was both lazy and razor-sharp at once.

The steward straightened instantly, lowering the gun but keeping his stance tense. "Miss Romanova, this man is an intruder. He—"

"I can see that," Irina interrupted, her voice low and measured, as if she were deciding whether to be annoyed or not.

She stopped at the base of the stairs, folding her arms loosely. "And yet... you haven’t shot him, can you tell me why?"

"I-I—" the Steward was instantly frightened by her words but before he could continue whatever he was saying, Irina sighed.

"It’s fine," she said, "I also want to know if he was sent by my brothers or not."

Her gaze then moved to the forged Coast Guard badge lying half-crumpled beside Ethan, then moved back to him, studying him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable.

"Let’s make our guest feel comfortable," she spoke to the two guards holding Ethan down and they immediately picked him up, pulled a chair and plopped him down on it.

Irina was also given a chair, letting her sit opposite him as they both stared into the eyes of the other.

"Interesting," Irina muttered after a while, "even though your death is pretty much assured at this point, you don’t seem the least bit scared."

"Well," Ethan started, "I don’t think I’ll die just yet."

His words caused her to raise a brow in surprise and a bit of interest, "please do tell why you think one of my guards won’t just shoot you at the snap of my finger."

To prove her point, she snapped and a gun’s barrel was immediately rested on the side of Ethan’s head.

"Because I bring a deal that’d peak your interest," He answered calmly.

A gun to the head was nothing new to him at this point, and though he should be feeling fear, there was this inexplicable anger bubbling at this situation.

Probably because of the PTSD triggered by a gun to his head. But this anger also allowed him dangerous calm. One that he needed the most in this right now.

"Is that so?" She asked, "and would you mind telling me what this deal is?"

But before Ethan could say anything, Athena suddenly spoke in his ears, {Ethan, get down!}

Without hesitation, he dropped to the floor, pulling the underworld queen with him, before any of the guards could react, the windows behind them exploded inward in a storm of gunfire.

The first bullets tore through the lounge like a hailstorm, whizzing past where Irina had been sitting a heartbeat earlier. Ethan’s body shielded hers as they both hit the polished floor hard.

The guards barely had time to register the attack before the second volley came short, precise bursts from high-caliber rifles. One man’s chest erupted crimson, his body slamming back against the wall.

Another dropped instantly, a neat hole in his temple. The steward tried to raise his pistol, but a round punched straight through his sternum, sending him sprawling lifeless across the deck.

"Were under attack!"someone shouted, but their voice was cut off by a sharp, wet gurgle.

Ethan was a bit disoriented by the sound of bullets around him, so he couldn’t react when Irina flipped him over and pulled him towards a wide enough counter for cover.

"Thanks for saving me," she muttered as she tapped the wall and it parted, revealing a row of guns, "now then, let me repay the favor."

She snatched an SMG from the rack, slammed a magazine home, and without so much as a glance aimed over the counter and returned fire in short bursts.

The answering screams from the attackers told Ethan she wasn’t shooting blindly.

"Grab something and make yourself useful," she said, tossing a sidearm in his direction without looking.

Ethan caught it, checked the mag—full—then risked a peek over the counter.

The lounge was a slaughterhouse already: shattered glass glittering on the floor, bodies of her men sprawled in pools of dark red, bullet holes pockmarking the walls and ceiling.

Three black-clad assailants were advancing through the broken window, rifles up, their movements coordinated and aggressive.

Athena’s voice rang in his ear, {Seven hostiles on board now. Four just breached portside, two more near the left stairwell. They’re moving fast. Whoever they are, they know the yacht’s layout.}

She knew all this because she had taken control of the entire yatch and could see the intruders through the cameras.

"They’re coming from the left," Ethan informed and Irina nodded.

Her last shot dropped one of the intruders mid-step, his weapon clattering to the floor. Ethan took the opening, he rose, aimed, and double-tapped the second in the chest.

The man stumbled, fell back through the broken glass, and disappeared into the black water below.

The third fired back immediately, rounds chewing into the counter. Splinters and shards of wood stung Ethan’s cheek causing him to flinch.

He hadn’t had any formal gun handling per say, just some VR military games in the future and the rare visits to the firing range.

The attacker seemed dumb enough to just empty all this round without taking cover so Ethan took opportunity of the moment he tried reloading and shot a couple of bullets straight to his chest.

Before Ethan Athena’s tone sharpened, {I’m keeping them out of the engine room but I can’t for long. If they blow the fuel tanks, you’ll have five minutes—maybe less—before the yacht’s gone.}

"I’m assuming your brothers don’t care if you survive," Ethan muttered as he fired two rounds at another attacker who just rushed in.

Irina only gave a humorless smile. "They care that I’m gone, that’s all."

"Well, we only have a few minutes before turning to barbeque," he informed.

"Follow me," she ordered and moved to a certain direction while covering herself, Ethan soon followed suit.