Chapter 7 - The ChokepointThe heavy steel bulkhead doors hissed shut with a series of loud, pneumatic thuds across the mid-sections of The Sovereign Star.

Within seconds, the ship's internal layout was effectively carved up into isolated zones. Passengers on the upper decks were completely cut off from the lower service levels, blissfully unaware of the tactical lockdown taking place beneath their feet.

I stood in the center of the main junction corridor on Deck 4—a long, narrow hallway flanked by heavy steel fire doors. It was the ultimate tactical chokepoint. No flanking routes, no cover except for recessed alcoves, and only one way in for anyone coming from the forward security station.

I pulled one of the makeshift vodka-bottle Molotov cocktails from my dress pocket, struck the lighter, and set the fabric wick ablaze. The orange flame danced fiercely in the dim, industrial lighting.

Clack-clack-clack.

Heavy combat boots echoed down the steel corridor. Shouts rang out through the smoke-tinged air.

"Clear the sector! Move, move, move!"

Four armed security guards rounded the corner, assault rifles raised, clad in tactical vests and heavy helmets. They expected cowering passengers or a confused civilian.

Instead, they found a former Marine Corps hand-to-hand combat instructor standing in the center of the hallway, wearing a blood-spattered white cocktail dress, holding a burning bottle of high-proof vodka in one hand and an aluminum baseball bat in the other.

"Contact! Target spotted!" the lead guard roared, leveling his rifle.

I didn't hesitate. I hurled the burning Molotov cocktail directly at their feet.

CRASH.

Flames erupted across the steel floor in a wall of blinding, searing fire, cutting off their advance with a wall of intense heat and thick, choking black smoke.

"Agh! Fire! Fire!" the guards panicked, scrambling backward, coughing and beating at their singed tactical gear.

Through the roaring flames and thick smoke, I charged.

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His chest tightened, a sharp, cold panic piercing through the expensive...

The silence of the boutique hotel room was a heavy, suffocating blanket....

The silence stretched for three agonizing seconds before I found my voic...

Like a ghost emerging from the fog, I leaped through the smoke barrier, my combat training taking over completely. I slammed the aluminum bat into the lead guard's helmet with bone-shattering force, sending him crashing backward into his teammates like bowling pins.

Before the remaining three could recover their sights, I was inside their guard—fast, violent, and relentless.