The Taichu tactical launch cut through the choppy dark waves of New York Harbor like a sharp golden blade.
Heavy autumn rain pelted the reinforced glass canopy with relentless force. Overhead, unnatural crimson storm clouds swirled in a tight, menacing vortex directly above Liberty Island, casting a bloody reflection across the churning black water. Distant flashes of red lightning lit up the towering silhouette of the Statue of Liberty against the darkening evening sky.
Tie Niu stood in the bow of the boat, his heavy hands gripping the forward brass railing. His massive shoulders were hunched slightly against the cold spray, his eyes locked onto the distant island.
Beside him, Chu Lingxiao rested her slender palm on the gold hilt of the Nine-Phoenix Immortal Sword. Her dark hair fluttered in the harbor wind, and her expression was as calm and serene as a mountain lake. Marcus Reed held his forensic tablet, tracking the pulsating subterranean energy signature that grew stronger with every nautical mile.
“The blood-beacon is seventy feet beneath the granite pedestal of the monument,” Marcus reported, pointing toward the colossal bronze statue looming through the mist. “During the nineteenth century, an underground masonry fortress sat beneath the island. Fort Wood had extensive subterranean powder magazines and ammunition vaults. Ten years ago, Sterling used a corrupt historical preservation trust to buy exclusive private access to the vaults.”
