The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the bustling airfield, where Vincent stood at the edge of the tarmac, his eyes fixed on the massive silhouette of the USS Iowa. The battleship loomed in the distance, its iconic superstructure and imposing guns standing as a testament to a bygone era of naval warfare. The sight of it was both nostalgic and inspiring—something Vincent had long been considering as a potential addition to his growing fleet.
Flanked by Brandt, who wore his usual look of quiet intensity, Vincent made his way toward the gangway. A light breeze carried the scent of saltwater, mingling with the sounds of busy crew members conducting maintenance. The air was filled with the rhythmic clang of metal, the hum of machinery, and the occasional bark of orders from officers overseeing the ship's operations.
