Page 154 of Broken Oath

“Unidentified boat entering from the northern channel. No running lights. It isn’t responding to radio calls.”

“How many onboard?”

“Thermal shows one.”

One person.

Approaching through a storm.

Rook looked toward Fathom.

“Could it be an attack?”

“Could be carrying explosives.”

Cobra picked up his rifle.

“I’ll handle it.”

“No shooting unless I order it,” Rook said.

Cobra looked disappointed.

The team moved.

Snow whipped across the docks.

Dark water struck the pilings beneath them.

Rook took position behind a stack of commercial fishing equipment. Sniper moved to his left.

Falcon and Reef covered the harbor from an elevated repair platform.

Maverick and Cobra secured the southern approach.

Shark remained inside the warehouse with Fathom, monitoring every camera despite the sling around his arm.

Cutter stood behind an engine block near the central dock.

A low-profile boat sliced through the harbor.

No running lights.

No identifying marks.

The vessel moved with precision despite the storm.

Its operator knew the channel.

That alone concerned Rook.

Only local captains and men who had studied Cutter’s private charts could navigate those waters safely in near-whiteout conditions.

The boat reached the dock.

Its engine died.

Silence settled over the harbor.