Claimed by the Ruthless Biker
He held a heavy, military-grade detonator box in his left hand, the wire running directly down into the black churning tide of the harbor.
Beside him, Kaelen stood with a long-range anti-material rifle rested on a concrete barrier, his winter-sky eyes tracking the movement of the destroyer’s bridge through an infrared scope. "The vanguard sweep teams are dropping from their launch boats now, Montague. Six zodiacs, professional maritime hitters. They’re trying to clear the docks before the main bombardment starts."
"Let them land," Ruan hissed, his voice a low, vibrating snarl that carried over the crash of the waves. "Vulture! Jax! Light the harbor!"