Chapter 72: The Masked Syndicate Won’t Fall
The alarms were screaming.
The ship was spinning, spiraling violently as I plummeted toward Mars at an angle no astronaut should ever experience. The world outside my window was a chaotic blur—red, black, fire, debris—twisting and shifting as gravity took its claim on me.
The right booster was gone.
Oxygen was leaking.
Ignition had failed.
I was plummeting at speeds that no man should survive.
And no one knew.
Mission Control wouldn't receive my distress signal for another fifteen minutes. Another fifteen after that before I could hear a response. By then, I would already be dead.
There was no one to save me.
No one except me.
I gritted my teeth, hands flying across the controls, fighting against the ship's violent rotations. The G-forces pressed against me like an unrelenting hand, trying to pin me back, crush me into my seat. My body ached, my vision blurred, but I refused.