The heavy iron door groaned, the magnetic lock disengaging with a sound like a guillotine blade. I didn't wait for it to swing open. I lunged, pressing my back against the cold steel of the bulkhead, the brass lamp gripped so tight my knuckles turned white. The Sentinel stepped into the cramped cabin. He was a mountain of a man, dressed in the dark, reinforced tactical gear of the Circle's private security. He didn't look like a sailor; he looked like an eraser.
He didn't see me at first. His eyes went straight to the Black Ledger sitting on the cot—the prize he had been sent to recover. As he reached for it, I swung. The brass lamp connected with the side of his tactical helmet with a sickening crack. He stumbled, but he didn't go down. These men were trained to ignore pain, their nervous systems likely dampened by the same tech Jeffrey Esteem had documented in the "Human Asset" files.
"Elias," he grunted, his voice a low, metallic rasp through his comms-unit. "You're making this audit difficult."
He turned, his hand moving toward the holstered shock-baton at his hip. I didn't give him the space. I tackled him, the momentum carrying us both into the narrow steel wardrobe. The sound of metal slamming against metal echoed through the hull, masked only by the roar of the engines below. I could hear Maya's frantic breathing through the vent above us, but she couldn't help me. This was my initiation.
I grabbed the heavy leather strap of the Ledger and looped it around the Sentinel's throat, pulling with every ounce of desperate strength I had left. He thrashed, his boots drumming a frantic rhythm against the floorboards. "The Center..." he gasped, his face turning a bruised purple under the dim emergency lights. "It's... already... waiting... for you."
With a final, violent heave, he went limp. I slumped against the door, gasping for air, the silence of the room suddenly deafening. I looked down at the man a soldier for a One World Order that didn't even know his name. I grabbed his keycard and the shock-baton. I wasn't just a passenger anymore. I was a stowaway with a weapon, and the Acheron was no longer a ship it was a cage.