Chapter 12
The heavy bronze boat hook swept through the air with lethal momentum, but Agent Vance dropped low instinctively, ducking beneath the arc before driving his shoulder hard into Julian’s midsection. The two men crashed heavily against the mahogany cabin wall of the yacht, sending a stack of spare life rings tumbling onto the wooden slip with a loud clatter.
Elena didn't hesitate. She didn't scream or panic. With cold, methodical precision, she bent down, scooped up the heavy brass key from her coat pocket, and leaped across the gap onto the deck of the yacht just as Julian managed to shove Agent Vance back against the railing.
“Julian!” Elena shouted, her voice cutting through the roar of the idling diesel engines.
Julian spun around, his face twisted in a mask of sudden, frantic rage as he raised the heavy boat hook to strike. But Elena didn't flinch. She lunged forward, not trying to dodge the blow, but driving her shoulder directly into his chest, using his own momentum to carry them both backward toward the open stern of the boat.
They hit the low teak railing with a hard, splintering crash. The wood cracked under their combined weight, tilting precariously over the dark, churning waters of the river rushing through the open boathouse gates.
“You’re coming with me, Elena!” Julian snarled, his fingers clawing at the collar of her beige coat as he tried to drag her over the side with him into the freezing current. “If I go down, the ledger goes with me! The trust dies with us!”
“The trust is already dead,” Elena whispered fiercely into his ear, her grip locked around his wrists like a vise.
With a sudden, violent twist, she reached down and jammed the heavy brass key into the manual override socket of the yacht’s emergency engine cutoff switch located right beside the stern cleat, turning it hard to port.
The powerful diesel engines roared in protest, instantly sputtering and dying with a massive cloud of black exhaust fumes as the fuel lines snapped shut. The fifty-foot yacht lurched violently forward, its bow slamming hard into the concrete pilings of the boathouse wall with a deafening screech of fiberglass and steel.
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The sudden deceleration acted like a catapult. Julian lost his footing on the slick, oil-stained teak deck, his grip on Elena’s coat tearing loose as he was launched forward over the splintered railing, plunging headfirst into the freezing, turbulent waters of the river below.
Elena caught herself against the broken railing, her breath heaving as she stared down into the black water.
