I pointed to the admiral again to fix his attention on me. I held up my open hand. In my palm was a gold amulet with the chain twined between my fingers.
“You say your ship is invincible? Were I to raise a finger, your ship, the very sign of your world-conquering might, would be dead in the water.”
“Now we know why she’s named Luna,” spat Marcus with a laugh. “She’s a fucking lunatic.”
Emboldened by Marcus, the others laughed.
“Little miss, you can no more damage this aircraft carrier than a mosquito could damage a Sherman tan—”
His voice cut off as I popped one claw-tipped finger and the lights in their room went out.
The video link must have been on a battery backup, because the feed continued. They were bathed in deep red emergency lights, alarms sounding in the background. A voice came over the loudspeakers. “General quarters, general quarters. All hands, man your battle stations.”
“Know this, Admiral. This werewolf is neither lunatic nor a liar.”
A sailor raced into the conference room and whispered to the admiral. “Emergency reactor SCRAM, Admiral. It’ll take at least three hours to recover. Emergency generators should be online in thirty seconds.”
The lights came back up. The admiral gritted his teeth and said, “A mere coincidence. Maybe you have some kind of precog working for you and are attempting to use that to dupe us.”
“Really? And how about that submarine that’s shadowing your aircraft carrier? The USS Annapolis, if I’m not mistaken. She’s about five hundred feet behind your stern. Would foresight allow me to…?”
I popped up my second finger and sent a spell.
Thirty seconds passed in silence; the admiral looked pleased.
“Hah. Nothing happened. You’re a fraud—”
“Give it a minute,” I interrupted rudely.
The same sailor raced back into the conference room and whispered in the admiral’s ear. “The sub just appeared on the surface. They had a reactor SCRAM and had to do an emergency ascent. They’re dead in the water and are requesting assistance.”
The admiral’s face paled and he gulped. Then he shook his head in defiance. “You have spies and saboteurs onboard my ships. We’ve heard you have shapeshifters in your ranks. We’ll have to root them out.”
“Admiral, I just told you I don’t lie. Believe me when I say no one else was involved. Just little old me, the lunatic and her magical gadgets.”
“Our ships are well-protected from long distance magical attacks. Maybe the Chinese gave you access to some computer virus to SCRAM our reactors remotely. Like we did with the Stuxnet virus in Iran.”
“A computer virus from China? Really? That’s the best excuse you’re got?”
Mike interrupted, “That boat was radio silent. There’s no way we could have activated a computer virus from here. Face it, Admiral. You’re outgunned.”
“Hardly,” snarled the admiral. “Our weapons systems will be back online in minutes. Then we’ll blow your ship out of the water. You have nothing to compare to our missiles and aircraft.”
“What’s the opposite of a reactor SCRAM?” I mused. “Some kind of meltdown, right? Do sailors still call that the China syndrome?”
I held up my open hand, claws extended. “Were I to close my fist, your reactor would melt down and your ship would sink to the bottom of the sea, taking all your missiles and aircraft with it.”
I took a deep breath, and shifted my face back to human.
“Please don’t make me do this,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to kill any innocent sailors. Just pull back out of range and let us steam away.”
The captain opened his mouth to either reject me or to order an attack. Either action would kill thousands.
Mike whispered loudly to interrupt him, “Take out the submarine first. They only have about a hundred crew.”
I looked at him in surprise. Didn’t he want the admiral to go down with his ship?
“It might give the saner members of the carrier’s crew time to abandon ship. It’ll save thousands of lives and still prove your point.”
The executive officer touched the arm of the message runner and they both exited. They were ignored by everyone.
“Okay,” I said to Mike. “We’ll do the submarine first. How many minutes does the crew need to evacuate?”
Mike looked at the monitor that relayed a drone image of the floundering submarine. “They’re already started to abandon ship. It’s SOP for reactor emergencies. Give them fifteen minutes.”
While the sub’s crew evacuated—some in boats, some jumping into the water—the admiral stared at me. This human leader, even with an aircraft carrier under his ass, thought he could stare down an alpha? I could stare down assholes all day. Fifteen minutes was nothing.
At the fifteen-minute mark, he broke first. “Your threats are empty. The greatest navy in the world bows to no terrorist or lunatic—”
He was interrupted by another announcement over the loudspeakers. “Abandon ship. Abandon ship. This is not a drill. All hands to your emergency stations and prepare for evacuation. Repeat, this is not a drill.”
“Sounds like you won’t have any pilots to fly those planes, nor men to fire your missiles in the next five minutes,” said Mike.
“I can wait five minutes before sinking you,” I said with a smile. “As long as no jets approach and no missiles fire, you’ll have time to evacuate.”
“Saint Luna is gracious in victory,” intoned Mike. He was laying it on thick. “Preserving human life is her primary goal.”
“I can launch from here on the bridge,” said the admiral. “I don’t need any of these traitors.”
General Marcus and the CIA demon looked on approvingly. Were they mentally pushing the admiral to continue his mad attack?
“Contact missile control,” said the admiral.
Okay, the bastard was serious. I extended my fangs—not enough to hinder speech, but I’ve been told I look scary that way. Then I held my open hand up and slowly
