Excerpt from Rogue Justice

"MAYDAY-MAYDAY-MAYDAY! This is the fishing vessel Diamond Lil. Repeat—this is the fishing vessel Diamond Lil. Rogue wave... boat going down... crew abandoned ship. Repeat—crew abandoned ship... wearing life jackets... four of us... please hurry." The captain radioed position, speed, and bearing, repeated the coordinates, then he, too, plunged into the abyss.
Five miles away—anchored off the east coast of Alaska’s Aleutian Islands—a statuesque, thirty-something woman stood at the helm of the Dawn Quixote, her torch-red hair glowing in the ethereal light of the radar screen. Captain Zora Flynn was no stranger to rogue waves, had faced their destructive power before. They were stealthy and struck without warning, like dreadful aftershocks rebounding through time. She listened to the distress call through a screech of static, and immediately notified Coast Guard authorities. Seconds later, she anchored up, steering her rugged long-liner on a southwesterly course. Less than forty minutes later, she arrived, first on the scene, the deck lights and portals all that were visible on the stricken vessel.
Zora and her three-man crew wasted no time. They rapidly scooped all but one of the half-frozen men from the icy Bering Sea waters, waters that could kill in under an hour. But the fourth man had suffered deep cuts on both hands, making it impossible for him to grasp the life ring. A posse of great whites cruising in the area homed in on his blood, their small, primitive brains instantly recognizing prey. Driven by instinct and an easy meal, the hungry predators closed fast, their dorsal fins breaking the water, tails thrashing violently back and forth.
Paralyzed by fear, the man was moments away from an unimaginable death when Zora did the unthinkable, seemingly without thinking: she grabbed a pistol from under her bunk, peeled off her poncho, and dove in after him. One of the sharks hastily changed course, hurtling past her just below the surface. The big fish made a sudden, sweeping turn, and, with one powerful thrust of its tail, was upon her. Seconds later, she took a bone-jarring hit from the big conical head, throwing her up and out of the water. Landing hard, she absorbed some of the impact with a nifty tuck and roll, but she was completely disoriented, not sure which way was up. Her eyes were burning like hot coals from the salt, the metallic smell of blood overpowering. Several panicky moments passed before she found her bearings. She kicked her way to daylight, gasping for air and coughing up seawater. Somehow she’d managed to hold onto the weapon.
Then... a frightening surge of pressure.
The shark was barreling straight toward her again, jaws agape, its big teeth fixed in a savage grin. In that instant, she locked eyes with nature’s most perfect killing machine, felt the intensity of its cold, dead, expressionless stare. It was only for an instant, but time enough for everything to slow down. Time enough for Zora’s highly advanced brain to comprehend the inevitable—she had just seconds to live.
The mind-numbing thought instantly galvanized her will.
In a desperate now-or-never move, she raised the weapon, lunged toward her aggressor, and fired off three quick rounds. The bullets traveled only a few feet, but her aim was remarkably straight and true, striking the shark directly between its eyes. Stunned by the unexpected volley, the big fish banked hard right, then disappeared into the inky darkness. The other sharks, confused and disoriented, began zigzagging in strange crossing patterns, running everywhere at once. Soon they too dropped below the surface and vanished from sight.
When it was all over and the terrified man safely on board, Zora collapsed in a heap on the aft deck. The harrowing rescue had taken less than ten minutes, but she had a dark premonition the consequences would last the rest of her life.