Chapter 34: Crew Expendable

The deafening roar of the Black Hawk helicopter's rotor blades filled the deck of the aircraft carrier. The massive blades spun, creating a biting wind. Under the stormy night sky, Arata and Natasha boarded the helicopter, sitting across from Pierson, who was fitting a communication device into his ear.

"This is the last Black Hawk, Hawk 4," Pierson shouted, his voice muffled by the headset. "Get ready. It's going to be a long night."

Arata nodded, tightening his seatbelt. "I'm ready."

The helicopter lifted off, piercing the thick clouds. Inside the cabin, no one spoke. The cold, damp air of the storm filled the space, mixing with the smell of jet fuel. Arata looked out the window. Flashes of lightning occasionally lit up the giant waves below, which looked like black chasms ready to swallow them.

"Russian intel was right," Natasha shouted through the intercom. "There's a suspicious cargo ship ahead. The ship isn't registered on any route."

Just then, the faint light of a ship appeared in the distance, cutting through the curtain of rain. An old, rusted, large, and silent cargo ship.

They arrived. Using ropes, the Ghost Protocol team and the SEALs quickly slid down onto the ship's deck. The silent operation had begun. They moved like shadows; the only sounds were the light clanging of the ropes and the splashing of rainwater. Their goal was the lower deck, where they suspected the nuclear device was hidden.

However, it didn't take long for the operation to go sideways. A barrage of gunfire erupted from the second floor, greeting them with a storm of bullets. The steel walls around them were hit, creating a shower of sparks and deafening clangs. The ship's crew turned out to be fully armed, trained terrorists.

DOOR! DOOR! DOOR!

"Damn it!" Pierson shouted, pulling Arata behind a steel crate. "They knew we were coming!"

"Everyone, find cover!" Arata yelled, pulling out his pistol. "Fall back! Find a weak point!"

Natasha immediately called out on the intercom. "Hawk 4, we need air support! Fire at the second floor! Now!"

"Copy, firing!" a voice responded.

BOOM! A massive explosion suddenly shook the entire ship. The air strike from Hawk 4 destroyed a large part of the second floor, sending debris, fire, and the screams of terrorists flying. This was their chance.

"Move! Move!" Arata shouted, and they charged forward, pushing through the narrow corridor with a constant exchange of fire.

After a fierce firefight, they managed to reach a large locked door. Pierson set a small explosive charge and backed away. The door burst open, revealing a sight that silenced them.

It wasn't a nuclear bomb.

The containers were filled with people—men, women, and children huddled together in terror, their eyes filled with panic. In the corner of the room lay piles of weapons, drugs, and narcotics. There was no sign of a nuclear device. This was a human and arms trafficking syndicate.

"This... isn't the nuke," Natasha said, her voice filled with shock.

"It was just a diversion," Arata muttered, his eyes burning with rage. "Damn it!"

Amidst the chaos, Arata found a small briefcase. Inside, there was no money, only a tablet with a screen displaying a strange series of codes.

Soon after, U.S. Navy ships arrived. A rescue team was sent to evacuate everyone from the ship, while Arata and his team returned to the aircraft carrier, bringing the mysterious tablet with them. From a distance, they watched the cargo ship get destroyed in a huge explosion.

In the control room, Pierson tried to crack the code. He ran program after program, but everything failed. The encryption was too complex, too unique.

"Damn it! I can't open it!" Pierson slammed the table in frustration.

Suddenly, a face flashed in his mind. He turned to Arata and Natasha.

"I know who can crack it," Pierson said. "Someone who taught me everything about encryption systems. His name is Clarke. He's a German citizen who lives in Kowloon, Hong Kong."