Chapter 155: Internal Strife

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Even if they could not enter the territorial waters of any country, they could still order the medical ship to turn toward the nearest stretch of international waters to the Porcelain Kingdom.

It meant taking a considerable detour, but there was no alternative. Some troubles simply could not be avoided.

The captain and helmsman flatly refused Mo Fei’s demand.

Who did not know how strictly the Porcelain Kingdom controlled its waters? Going there would be courting death—once in, there might be no way out.

But the situation left them no room to choose.

The instant the captain refused, Long Two drew his gun and shot him.

The swift, decisive act terrified the other helmsmen into trembling.

Bai Tian, standing guard outside, poked his head in. “What happened? Do you need corpse-removal services? Fair prices, no cheating, even children and old folks get the same rate.”

The stench of blood in the wheelhouse was overwhelming. Covering his nose, Mo Fei rolled his eyes. “Drag him out. Quickly.”

“On it.”

Bai Tian showed no surprise when he saw the captain with a bullet hole in his head. As easily and practiced as if he were carrying a crate of milk, he hauled the captain’s corpse out of the wheelhouse.

Even after the body had been removed, the smell of blood remained thick in the air.

It was more than a little intoxicating to Mo Fei.

Long Two did not so much as raise an eyebrow. Calmly, he pressed several buttons on the control panel.

Mo Fei watched him for a moment, then looked surprised. “You know how to pilot a ship?”

“Did I ever say I didn’t?”

Long Two delivered the line with a low-key air of supreme confidence, and Mo Fei looked at him with unabashed admiration.

The other helmsmen and crew quickly realized that these two knew what they were doing—and that they were ruthless enough to execute the old captain without hesitation. Any move on their part would mean instant death, so they all became obedient at once.

The crew were responsible only for operating the ship. At most, they were accessories; even if arrested, they probably would not be sentenced to death.

But if they died at the hands of these invaders, they would be truly dead—without even the consolation of a prison sentence.

Once the medical ship had turned onto the route they had planned, Long Two took a satellite phone from the inner pocket over his chest and sent a message to Long Four.

If his calculations were right, the navy should already have set out.

The medical ship and the naval fleet could not miss each other. Their routes had to be coordinated.

Events unfolded exactly as Long Two had predicted. Long Four was aboard a naval vessel.

The moment she received Long Two’s message, she reported the situation to her superiors.

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Was that not the main reason she had been placed aboard the ship?

This operation was substantial. The vessel carried not only police officers but soldiers as well, and the atmosphere was deeply uncomfortable for Long Four.

After all, mercenaries worked in a profession with relatively few rigid rules. This ship, however, was filled with people who valued rules above all else.

She felt constrained.

“Could you ask about the situation aboard that ship?”

After reading the message, the naval commander turned to Long Four.

She felt somewhat awkward, but followed his instructions and began composing a reply.

Before she could send it, a second, much longer message from Long Two arrived.

It gave a detailed account of the personnel aboard the medical ship and the layout of the vessel. As for the other inconsequential details—such as the guards who had been killed—there was no need to mention them.

When the commander saw that the ship was crowded with armed men and that there were many hostages aboard, his expression grew solemn.

He politely asked Long Four to leave, then began devising a plan with his staff officer.

The people had to be rescued, and the criminals had to be captured. But there were too many of them; the naval vessel might not have room for everyone.

The staff officer offered a suggestion.

If that was the case, why not do exactly what the people aboard the medical ship were doing? Take control of the vessel directly and sail it back.

That would solve the problem of capacity, and the medical ship itself would also serve as a massive piece of evidence.

It was, indeed, an excellent solution.

After confirming the medical ship’s current coordinates, the navigator calculated that, given the navy’s present speed, they would still need roughly a full day and night of continuous travel before meeting the ship in international waters.

And that was with both sides heading toward each other.

The naval vessel’s maximum speed was only thirty knots—equivalent to 55.56 kilometers per hour by automobile standards. It was not particularly fast.

Of course, if they chose to use missiles, the missiles would certainly arrive faster than the warship.

At this distance, one could strike the medical ship in less than five minutes.

But they would not choose to do that.

For now, it was a race against time.

The soldiers began preparing their weapons and equipment.

The deputy commander of the security team aboard the medical ship had also noticed that both the vessel’s course and its speed differed from previous years.

Out on the open sea, however, he had no way of determining the ship’s destination. One thing was certain:

The little pests aboard the vessel had all retreated to the wheelhouse and taken control of it.

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Whatever their purpose, the most important thing now was to find a way out.

The five deputy commanders gathered to discuss their options.

Among them were loyalists of the five great families, professional security men who worked only for money and survival, and old employees whose intentions were unclear.

In short, each had his own agenda.

The situation aboard the ship could be described as perfectly clear.

The infiltrators were highly capable, and taking them down would require a considerable effort.

The commander was dead. The mountain pressing down on them had vanished.

The Myanmar faction was at war, and there was no guarantee that the five great families would continue to exist in the future.

The five deputy commanders sat in silence for a while, testing one another with their eyes and exchanging information without words.

Two of the five were loyalists of the great families. Sensing that the atmosphere was wrong, they were just about to speak when the other three suddenly drew their daggers and lunged at them, killing them on the spot.

In the blink of an eye, only three deputy commanders remained.

Everything was false now. Or perhaps returning was the only truth.

The deputy commander who had struck first wiped the blood from his dagger.

“The helicopter is on deck. Who wants to stay and die?”

“I don’t.”

Another man wiped the blood from his face.

It was time to make a choice.

The guards lying in their bunks were indeed their subordinates, but remaining aboard the ship clearly offered little chance of victory.

People in this line of work sometimes treasured their freedom and their lives more than anyone.

When the three deputy commanders boarded the helicopter, several squad leaders and guards had no idea what they intended to do. Hearing the helicopter start up, they still wore expressions of bewilderment.

Looking down at the entire medical ship from above was a remarkable perspective.

The men aboard the helicopter stared coldly below.

“Farewell.”

As the helicopter slowly lifted off, someone suddenly burst from the cabin and fired several shots at it.

The bullets struck the fuselage. The deputy commander sitting nearest the door was hit in the arm, leaving a bloody hole through it.

“Fuck!”

The shooter had done everything he could, but he still failed to stop the helicopter from disappearing into the distance.