Behind them, the dark boats grew larger, their wakes slashing across the water in long white scars. Spray shot high with each rise and fall. Even at a distance, their speed was obvious—they were closing the gap.
Ethan grabbed the radio, twisting the dial. “Mayday, mayday, this is Aurora’s Wake—request immediate assistance, two hostile vessels in pursuit.” Only static answered. He tried again, sharper, louder, but nothing broke through. His eyes narrowed. “They’re jamming us,” he muttered. “That’s why no one’s answering.”