Emerald Fire by Monica McCabe Page A

last quick assessment. The array of boats at the pier ranged from small speedboats to larger cabin cruisers. Fast, but if Jonathan and Chloe cut fuel lines, they shouldn’t be a problem.
    But then he looked beyond the dry dock and his heart sank. “Damn it to hell,” he cursed. Another, smaller pier sat farther down the shore with one vessel moored there. A cigarette boat. The long, racing lines and sleek hull spelled disaster. They’d never outrun a boat capable of eighty knots.
    The good news was that a reassuring glow from the direction of the shed said his blaze was growing. Laughter drifted from the warehouse as the men inside worked. The Emerald Fire sat peacefully at the end of the pier, but no sign of Chloe or her uncle. They’d better be on board because they had less than a minute before liftoff.
    Time to close the distance.
    He turned to make a run for it, but stalled when someone stepped outside the warehouse and lit a cigarette. Finn ducked back behind the woodpile.
    The smoker started to stroll toward the side of the building. If he rounded the corner he would no doubt spot the orange glow coming from the rear.
    One…two…the shout went up. Men poured out of the warehouse, rounding the side of the building. More shouts erupted, and then Finn’s time bomb detonated. The force of the explosion reached him, hitting with a blast of wind that signaled a need to move. Finn took off at a dead run, hoping against hope that chaos would keep the pirates busy.
    He’d made it halfway down the pier, legs pumping faster than a thoroughbred, when the diesel engines of the Emerald Fire rumbled to life. Finn had never heard a more beautiful sound.
    Chloe was on deck frantically waving him on as the first bullet whizzed past his head. Two more shots followed, but then the second explosion hit. He raced the remaining distance as the Fire began moving away from the dock.
    “Jump, Finn!” Chloe shouted.
    He didn’t need to be told. He thrust off the edge of the wooden pier and went airborne. He didn’t quite make the landing, but got close enough to grasp the deck rail and hang on for dear life.
    “Hit it, Uncle Jon!” Chloe screamed.
    Chloe reached over and yanked him up by his belt. They both tumbled onto the deck amid another round of gunfire.
    As twin propulsion engines surged, Finn scrambled to the rail. Flames lit up the shoreline, and half a dozen pirates were tearing down the pier. They jumped into a couple smaller boats and rushed to loosen mooring lines. Their outboard motors fired, but quickly sputtered out without a fuel supply. His team had come through.
    “Finn!” Chloe shouted. When he turned, she slid an AR15 across the deck to him and followed it with a couple extra ammo magazines.
    “You give the best presents, sweetheart.” He kicked off the safety, slapped in a magazine, and chambered a round. Without hesitation, he began raining bullets on the dock. It took him a second to realize Chloe was doing the same thing and doing it with skill. Pirates dove into the water to escape the hail of bullets as the Emerald Fire pulled away from the compound.
    In the short reprieve, Finn released a spent magazine and reloaded, but damn if he wasn’t burning to ask where a historian learned to shoot like that. The ease in which she handled the weapon meant she’d had practice. And lots of it.
    “We disabled three out of five boats at the dock,” Chloe said. “Shouldn’t be many left to chase us with.”
    “But chase they will,” Finn replied. The Fire was picking up speed and pulling away, but pirates wouldn’t be far behind. “You’ve more of those?” he asked, pointing to the ammunition magazines.
    “In the weapons locker.”
    Chloe Larson had skills that didn’t match her job description. He intended to find out why, but right now they had less than five minutes to prepare for war. “Let’s load up then head for the stern.”
    Chloe fled to the bridge, and he followed.
    Jonathan flipped