A Navy Captain Kicked a Female Special Forces Soldier Into the Pacific Ocean—He Thought She'd Drown, Until One Radio Call Exposed His Deadly Secret!

The ship's lights flickered when Ward ordered a communications shutdown. In the locked berth, Naomi heard the ventilation fan die.

"He's cutting power to the section," Davis said from the corridor.

"Why?" Naomi asked.

"So the backup radio goes dark. I think he knows who used it."

Ortega pulled a manual release from the maintenance panel and forced the door open. "We have to move. Now."

They crossed a narrow passage and climbed into a supply room. Finch was waiting beside a sealed orange case holding the emergency recorder's maintenance module.

"I can preserve its state without deleting the main data," Finch said. "But we need witnesses when it's opened."

"Then keep it sealed," Naomi said. "We'll stand here until they come."

A metallic thud rolled through the hull. The engines dropped speed. On the overhead speaker, Ward shouted at the engineering watch to restore full power.

Finch looked at the compass repeater. "There's a ship crossing our bow."

Over the external radio came a deep voice: "USS Resolute, this is USS Sentinel. You are directed by Vice Admiral Hart to reduce speed and prepare to receive the relief team. Acknowledge."

Ward didn't answer.

Ortega exhaled. "They found us."

Naomi checked the paper in her hand: Davis's statement, Finch's times, Ortega's account. Three witnesses, all terrified, all choosing to speak. She thought of Eli and pictured the yellow wall behind him.

A warning klaxon rang once. Then the general alarm sounded.

"Collision warning?" Davis whispered.

Finch grabbed the rail as the Resolute lurched. "Ward just ordered a hard turn toward the Sentinel."

The speaker crackled. Ward's voice came through, strained and furious.