Book 3: Mr. Salty into the Future Ireland 2037 – The Global Siege
⚔️ Chapter 1 – Storm Front Off the Cork Coast, Ireland – January 4th, 2037, 04:12 Thunder growled across the Atlantic as waves smashed against the rusting hull of the MV Fionnbharr , an abandoned trawler drifting 20 miles off Cork. On its deck, hidden under storm tarps, crouched Na Fianna Nua’s strike team. Salty wiped rainwater from his NVGs and surveyed the black ocean. Beside him, Ye Olde Large Lad flexed his massive shoulders, hammer strapped to his back, M249 wrapped in waterproof oilcloth. “Boss,” he rumbled over the comms, voice nearly drowned by the roaring wind, “WhizzAir’s gettin’ seasick again.” Behind them, WhizzAir clutched the trawler railing, retching violently. He wiped his mouth, glaring through soaked curls. “Not seasick, just recalibrating my stomach for violence.” Sarah snorted softly, checking her suppressed AR-15. Funji sat cross-legged beside her, meditating calmly in the rain, hair tied back in a neat topknot. Squallshy adjusted his Barrett snip...