Inside the reinforced vault behind the VIP lounge, Felicia worked with terrifying speed.
Her titanium claws sheared through the secondary biometric lock like warm butter. The heavy steel door swung open, revealing rows of velvet-lined safety deposit boxes, glittering uncut diamonds, stacks of untraceable offshore bonds, and cold hard cash.
"Jackpot..." Felicia purred, hauling out three heavy, waterproof duffel bags and stuffing them to the brim. "Fisk is going to be furious. I love it."
Outside in the main gaming hall, it was complete, unadulterated madness.
BANG! BANG!
Natasha, her backless emerald dress still looking pristine, delivered a brutal spin-kick that sent Fisk’s chief of security crashing straight through a marble blackjack table. She ducked under a wild right hook from an ex-Spetsnaz mercenary, grabbed his arm, and slammed him face-first into the cashier’s cage.
Through [The Royal Flush Command], Jack’s voice sang merrily in her mind: "Vault’s clean, Red! Time for the grand finale!"
"Upper deck," Natasha transmitted back instantly, snatching two submachine guns from fallen guards and vaulting over a baccarat table. "Felicia’s heading for the stern platform. Don't dawdle, clown."
Jack was currently riding a gilded serving cart down the main aisle, spraying a pair of high-pressure seltzer bottles into the faces of three advancing guards while screaming, "FREE REFRESHMENTS ON THE HOUSE! HAHAHAHA!"
BZZZZT-BOOM!
Jack triggered [Joker’s Reality Distortion], causing the remaining mercenaries to hallucinate that the casino floor was suddenly tilting at a forty-five-degree angle. Men stumbled over their own feet, firing wild shots into the crystal chandeliers above as glass rained down like sparkling snow.
Jack somersaulted off the serving cart, caught up with Natasha at the grand staircase, and the two burst onto the open upper deck into the cool, misty night air.
Felicia was already waiting at the stern, three duffel bags slung over her shoulders, standing on the edge of the helipad. Floating thirty feet below in the choppy Atlantic waters was Wilson Fisk’s private matte-black cigarette speedboat, its twin V12 engines idling quietly.
On the helipad, two luxury Sikorsky helicopters sat parked, ready for Fisk's VIP guests.
"How are we getting down to the boat?!" Felicia yelled over the roaring sea wind.
Jack grabbed two heavy flares from a emergency bulkhead box, popping their caps with his teeth. His bloodshot eyes glowed with an electric crimson light through the dark mist.
"THE TRADITIONAL WAY, DARLING!" Jack shrieked happily, shoving the lit flares straight into the fuel tanks of both parked luxury helicopters!
"Jack!" Natasha gasped, grabbing both Jack and Felicia by their collars. "JUMP!"
The three of them vaulted off the high stern deck, plunging sixty feet straight down into the pitch-black Atlantic Ocean!
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
A split-second later, both Sikorsky helicopters detonated in a towering, blinding inferno of orange and violet fire! The blast tore through the top deck of the Sovereign’s Ledger, sending a magnificent shower of burning debris and golden sparks shooting hundreds of feet into the night sky like grand fireworks over the New York harbor!
SPLASH!
All three hit the ocean, breaking the surface a moment later right beside Fisk's idle cigarette boat.
Natasha hauled herself up the stern ladder first, pulling Felicia and the heavy bags of loot aboard before reaching down to grab Jack by his lapels. She pulled him up onto the leather deck, his dark tuxedo soaked, his chalk-white face covered in sea spray, but his crimson smile wider than ever.
Jack wiped the water from his eyes, reached into his wet jacket, and pulled out an unlit cigar and a stolen diamond-encrusted lighter.
CLICK.
He lit the cigar, taking a long, triumphant drag, before slamming his hand down on the twin throttles.
ROAAAAAAAAR!
The high-powered speedboat surged forward, cutting through the dark ocean waves at eighty miles an hour, leaving the burning, chaotic spectacle of Fisk's casino yacht shrinking into the foggy distance.
Jack wrapped his arm around Natasha’s waist, pulling her close against him as she laughed—a rare, breathless, beautiful sound—while Felicia unzipped a duffel bag, tossing a handful of diamonds into the night air like glittering stars.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR, FISK!" Jack bellowed into the ocean wind, his raspy cackle echoing across the open sea. "THANKS FOR THE BOAT! HAHAHAHA!"
Current Status:
Synchronization Level: 50.0%
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