Chapter 327: Preparing to Board

Words : 1440 Updated : Oct 15th, 2025

[TN: Here today three chapters] "This is the Celtic Wanderer, requesting assistance—we are being pursued by unknown pirates. Mayday, mayday—fuck." Clint Barton, the primary operator of the Celtic Wanderer, was on board along with several agents hired by S.H.I.E.L.D. He'd done something huge, all based on trusting Nick Fury: He stole the cargo from a S.H.I.E.L.D. research vessel. The cargo was sealed in a specialized container that required constant temperature and pressure—meaning it needed continuous power and had to be stolen along with the entire cargo bay. This was one of the most difficult missions of his entire espionage career. Unfortunately, while they managed to get the cargo out, they still left a trail— [Fury: Clint, two escort ships have left the fleet and are heading your way. Run!] That was his last communication with Fury! Two U.S. Navy escort ships had left their base and were coming straight for them! The Celtic Wanderer was a small freighter. Upon hearing the news, Clint immediately had his crew start the engines and ditch all unnecessary weight, moving full speed south along the coastline! There was no satellite support this time—just old-school compasses and the barely visible coastline guiding their way. The crew was on edge, close to breaking. Clint made another call over the radio, then shook the canteen on the table. It was empty. His lips were cracked. They'd barely resupplied before being forced to flee. "Boss, is someone really coming to pick us up?" At the control panel, an operator asked weakly. "They are," Clint replied without hesitation, checking his watch with fake confidence. "Almost here." Bang. The door creaked open, and a weary agent stepped in. "Boss, we're almost out of fuel." Clint nodded grimly. The next second, the radio crackled. [Bzzz—Attention, this is the USS Sentinel calling the Celtic Wanderer. We have been informed by the UN Peacekeeping Forces that you are suspected of stealing critical cargo. You are ordered to slow down and stop your vessel immediately. Please comply with this order. Reduce speed and await further instructions.] The situation just got worse—they were now receiving broadcasts from the warship. The room turned ice cold. Without hesitation, Clint grabbed his weapon—a carbon fiber compound bow and a quiver filled with high-tech arrows. "Engine room, max the power output." "But..." "Do it. We're almost at the support rendezvous." His tone left no room for argument. The crew slapped themselves awake and rushed back to their posts. Clint grabbed the radio as he walked. "How far behind are they?" [Radar shows they're about 60 nautical miles out. We're barely staying ahead—but fuel's almost gone!] Due to waves, weather, and the curvature of the Earth, visibility at sea is quite limited. That's why military ships rely heavily on radar. The civilian radar on this freighter could only detect up to 80 nautical miles with any accuracy. The military warning crackled over the comms again. Clint was nervous, but then— [Boss! There's a ship approaching ahead!] Clint perked up. Coming head-on, the ship quickly revealed itself— Several small ships, tens of meters long. They deployed speedboats too—basically "low-budget aircraft carriers." Pirates! Clint's eyes widened. He immediately grabbed the radio: ["Full speed! Ram through them!"] In the control room, the operator pushed the throttle forward. The diesel engine roared as the wake deepened behind the ship. The seasoned pirate captain immediately noticed something was off— They'd been spotted, but the freighter didn't slow down! Pirates usually encountered two situations: Pirates open fire, and the ship pays a ransom. The ship's guards fire back, and the pirates flee. But this time was different. The ship sped up! "They've lost their minds!" the pirate captain on the mothership shouted. "Shoot the deck!" The pirates on the speedboats raised their AK-47s and fired. Bullets pinged off the ship's hull. Clint crouched behind the rail. "I almost feel bad for you guys... talk about bad luck." On the open sea, head-on encounters happen quickly. But it wasn't just the freighter and the pirates in motion—the two escort ships were gaining fast as well. The pirates tried to turn and give chase, but a sharp-eyed pirate noticed something in the waves behind them— A warship! "Stop firing! STOP FIRING!!" he shouted, grabbing the gunner and helmsman, both of whom elbowed him in response. Wham! "Shit!" He clutched his bleeding nose as screams erupted around him—someone had been hit. "Hit? Screw that! If we don't run now, we'll be swiss cheese!" He yanked his teammate's head toward the warship. Through the waves, a towering escort ship came into view—its turret flashed with fire! BOOM! The radio filled with terrified voices: "It's the Americans!" A 76mm explosive shell tore through the pirate mothership's bow. BOOM! A fiery explosion burst across the deck. The ship spun out of control, overturned, and burning pirates screamed as they fell overboard. In the captain's cabin, the pirate captain screamed over open comms: "The Americans are firing on us!" BOOM! The second shell struck the captain's cabin directly. Aboard the warship, the captain remained expressionless. Firing felt good. Hitting the target felt even better. But hitting pirates? Nothing to brag about. Plus, there could be international consequences from this. He'd rather not have been sent on this mission. But a soldier follows orders. "Yes!" the rookie at the console pumped his fist, thrilled. The captain glanced at the rookie, then turned to their mission commander. "Colonel Steven, do we continue firing? We risk collateral damage..." "Don't worry. The chance of friendly fire isn't as high as you think." Colonel Steven—Tony Stark's head of security, Erik—looked cold, though inwardly impressed by the fire-control system's precision. [TN: In case anyone forgot this is Killmonger] Two shots. Two hits. In his hand was a tablet running the mission's AI support software. [Iron Soldier 001: Estimated time until target runs out of fuel: 30 minutes. Recommend boarding to secure cargo and test Iron Soldier combat capability.] "But you're right. Collateral damage isn't worth it," he said, then gave the order: "Disperse the pirates. Prepare to deploy the Iron Soldier." The captain gave the command to the operator: "Use the water cannon to drive them off—" Before he could finish, Erik cut in: "Use the autocannon." Whoosh! At that moment, two RPGs streaked across the sea, aimed at the warship! BOOM! A flash of fire and a slight tremble—mostly psychological, since ships rock more than that in regular seas. One RPG hit; the other plunged harmlessly into the sea. When the flames faded, the warship was unharmed. The nearby pirates, having crept too close to the behemoth, now stared at it in despair. The autocannons swiveled instantly, locking onto them. Gunfire erupted—heavy and relentless. Water and blood sprayed into the air, staining the ocean with oil and crimson. The captain's face turned grim as he glared at the gunner: "You were supposed to follow my order!" The gunner nodded but shared a glance with Erik. Erik patted the captain's shoulder. "Focus on the mission, Captain." "The Americans are firing on us!" The scream echoed over open channels. Aboard a Wakandan patrol boat, everyone's face changed—they hadn't expected the U.S. to dispatch a warship. Now the situation was out of control— They were in what technically counted as international waters, but a Wakandan patrol boat firing on a U.S. escort ship? That would be an international incident. Luckily, a broken radio connection sparked back to life. Frank reestablished contact with Leo through Africa's fragmented networks. [Frank: Boss, the ship's being chased by U.S. warships. The pirates charged in and got blown up—what do we do?] [Leo: I'll send you some software. Then I'll tell you what to do.] [Leo: Prepare to board the ship.] [Frank: Steal the cargo?] [Leo: I mean a very old tactic—you're boarding the U.S. ship.] [Leo: Get ready to jump ships.] Jump ships? Like old-time pirates leaping onto a warship?! Frank gripped his weapon tightly, glancing at his team. The Wakandan crew looked uncertain, awaiting orders. He thought for a second, then said defiantly: "So what if they're Americans?" Everyone nearly blurted out: Aren't you American too?! Frank stepped out, armor adjusting to combat mode with a hiss of hydraulics. "Bring the boat closer to the signal source. Everyone else, follow me." "Prepare to jump ships."

Chapter 327: Preparing to Board

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