Chapter 5 - The Crossing of Lough Derg
The underground tunnel opened into a small, secluded boathouse built into the natural rocky cliffside on the edge of the lake.
Rain poured through the wooden slats of the roof, splashing into the dark, choppy water where a high-powered black motorboat was moored to the wooden dock.
Antonio guided Evelyn down the slippery steps into the boat, securing her into a passenger seat before unhitching the heavy mooring lines.
“Can you drive this thing in a storm?” Evelyn shouted over the roar of the wind and rain.
“I grew up on the coast of Amalfi, Evelyn,” Antonio replied, stepping behind the console and firing up the twin high-performance engines. The boat purred to life with a deep, throaty rumble. “A lake in Ireland is just a large pond.”
He pushed the throttle forward, and the boat shot out of the boathouse into the dark, churning waters of Lough Derg.
Thirty-knot winds whipped spray across the windshield, and four-foot waves slammed against the hull as they cut through the pitch-black night. Behind them, high on the hill, the stone manor was lit up by flashing emergency searchlights and distant muzzle flashes.
Suddenly, two bright spotlights ignited on the water half a mile behind them.
Two high-speed tactical craft had launched from a nearby public pier, pursuing them across the lake.
“They brought boats!” Evelyn yelled, looking over her shoulder at the closing searchlights.
Antonio glanced at the radar screen on his console. “They are faster than us on open water, but they do not know the depth of this lake.”
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a second handgun, and handed it to Evelyn.
She looked down at the heavy black steel weapon in her lap, wide-eyed. “Antonio, I’ve never fired a gun in my life!”
“Then I hope you do not have to start tonight,” Antonio said, keeping his eyes glued to the dark water ahead. “Keep the safety on. If anyone boards this vessel, point it at their chest and pull the trigger. Do you understand?”
Evelyn took a deep breath, her hands trembling as her fingers closed around the cold grip of the weapon. “Understood.”
Antonio slammed the throttle to maximum power, veering sharply to the left toward a narrow, treacherous channel between two small, uninhabited rocky islands.
The pursuing boats followed aggressively, their searchlights sweeping across the water, blindingly bright.
“Hang on!” Antonio shouted.
He navigated the dark boat through the narrow stone gap with razor-thin precision, the hull scraping against submerged rocks.
Behind them, the lead pursuing boat tried to follow at full speed, but failed to calculate the shallow reef. A sickening crunch of tearing fiberglass echoed across the water as the attacker's boat slammed into the submerged rocks at forty miles per hour, flipping wildly into the air and exploding into a ball of orange fire.
The second pursuing boat veered off sharply to avoid the wreckage, giving Antonio the precious minutes he needed to disappear into the thick fog hanging over the far shore of the lake.
Twenty minutes later, the boat glided quietly into a hidden, overgrown inlet near the town of Mountshannon.
Antonio cut the engines, letting the boat drift gently against the muddy bank beneath the overhanging willow trees.
Silence descended over them, broken only by the rhythmic patter of rain on the canvas roof and the heavy sound of their own breathing.
Antonio turned off the navigation lights, plunging the cabin into soft darkness. He turned to Evelyn, his chest heaving as he looked at her sitting in the passenger seat, still holding the handgun securely in her lap.
He reached out, gently taking the weapon from her hands, placing it on the console, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a fierce, protective embrace.
Evelyn buried her face in the shoulder of his damp sweater, her entire body shaking as the adrenaline finally left her system.
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“You did magnificent, Evelyn,” Antonio whispered into her hair, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “You are the braver than any soldier I have ever known.”
Evelyn held onto him, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek—the same heartbeat she had fought so desperately to save at thirty-seven thousand feet.
