Radio Silence Ship Novels & Stories

My silhouettes and Tiger's walked side by side under the moon, heading toward the waiting small boat. While the Cannes Festival continued to be glitz and glamour that night, we had to dive beneath the surface. For the one secret that binds me, the hunt for Amadeus's headquarters. Lucy snorted harshly. Suddenly, she was peeking out from the boat. "Do you think you're planning a vacation?" she growled. "Get on board!" Our ship, named Erebus by Tiger, accelerates rapidly after the electric engine is turned on. Remarkably, this engine hides its heat and frequency to avoid radar detection.

"The Board doesn't let its best assets burn, honey. They just give us an upgrade. I’m faster now. Stronger. And I’m very, very hungry for my daughter." Beside me, Vance raised his rifle, but Silas was faster. He pressed a button on a small remote in his hand. A wall of blue energy shot out from the dome, hitting our boat. The engine died instantly. The lights flickered and went out. We were drifting, helpless, in the shadow of his massive ship.

CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE AFTER THE BANQUET The night air smelled like metal and impatience. We hadn’t spoken since the banquet. Just silence, taut, simmering, dangerous. That woman’s touch still lingered in Dante’s memory like poison. And in mine, her face begged for the kind of closure only blood could deliver. Then Malcolm’s voice cracked through the tension over the radio. “There’s been movement, Boss. Ricci’s private port just lit up. A ship came in three hours ago, cargo unknown, but heavy escort. We confirmed it just now.”

Another radio message boomed through the interface. "Shuttle Sierra Echo Bravo nine two one, this is Cheyenne Control. You have entered restricted air space. I repeat, restricted air space. Provide recognition codes or follow vector seven to the north. Over". An indicator light appeared, followed by a tone. Cheyenne could fire anything they wanted to. The pilot grimaced and looked at his passenger. Colonel Dooley Marco looked back. If he was frightened, there was no sign of it. "Go ahead. Tell them".

Silvio was doing what he did best—keeping things light even with death breathing down our necks. As we neared the docks, the tension thickened. The eerie silence was more unnerving than gunfire. Saltwater and rust tainted the air as I scanned the area. Our convoy moved in formation, flanked by our troops. The old shipyard loomed in the distance, dark and deserted, bracing its air in anticipation of the unleashing of evil. Fabio exhaled sharply. “Shut up, man. Your fvcking nonsense is making me want to puke.”

"Sometimes you have to walk right into a trap to destroy it from the inside." -- The marina was quiet when they arrived. Most boats were already out on the water. A sleek black speedboat waited at the dock with one crewman standing guard. "Are you Cecilia Moore?" he asked. His voice was flat and emotionless. She nodded. "This way, please." Twenty minutes later, Harper checked her phone. "No signal," she said. "Big surprise." "What did you expect?" Yvonne replied dryly. A huge cruise ship appeared in the distance. It was the biggest ship Cecilia had ever seen.

Above us, at the mouth of the shaft, Dante’s iron frame was outlined in a ring of white fire as he held the broken cables against the enforcers' rifles, his body taking the brunt of the magnetic slugs to keep the wireline open. "Zora!" his voice rattled through the water, sounding thin and distant, like a signal being drowned by a storm. "The... the ships... they aren't firing at us! They're firing at the grid!" The baby in my arms let out a low, mechanical laugh, the silver fountain pen floating between her tiny fingers as the first missile cleared the bay of the leading warship.

Mina gasped. Elara ran to the viewport. Through the dark, churning water of the Pacific, she saw a streak of violet light. It stopped just a few hundred feet from the ship. A voice drifted through the ship’s speakers—not a radio transmission, but a Neural Broadcast that echoed in everyone’s head. It was a voice they knew, but it was layered with a terrifying, melodic power. "Mother. Elara. Kazimir," the voice sang. "The Architects are tired of waiting. Hand over the Vessel, or the U.S.S. Constitution becomes a tomb."

Alex tapped her fingers on the table as she listened to the communications between Janice and her teams. She wished they had visual, but instead, it was just snippets of orders barked between them. Jack was headed back down with the leader to talk strategy. It sounded like him and Jimmy were in a bit of a tiff. She grabbed the edge of the table as the ship rocked violently. "What was that?" Janice asked. "Looks like a missile!" Janice stood at attention. Panic laced her voice. "Where'd it come from?"

The radio on Silvio’s belt continued to spit static and Cassio’s panicked, echoing screams. "Silvio! Do you copy?! They have heavy artillery! They're wiping out the entire container terminal!" Julia stepped forward, unhooking the radio from the dead man's belt. She clicked the transmission button, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. "Silvio can't come to the phone right now, Cassio. But you should worry less about your shipping containers and more about who just sold you out."