Chapter 8 - THE TARMAC
The standoff on the tarmac was absolute.
The whining of the jet engines seemed to amplify the deafening silence between us. Daniel stared at the small silver flash drive dangling between my thumb and forefinger, suspended inches above the dark void of the storm drain. His eyes were wide, twitching with a manic, desperate energy.
"You won't drop it," Daniel sneered, though a bead of sweat rolled down his bruised temple. "That drive contains the wealth your father was robbed of. That’s your inheritance, Mara. You drop it, you lose everything."
"I have everything I need right here," I said, pulling Leo closer to my chest with my free arm. "Wealth bought you nothing but a rotten soul. I’ll burn it all to the ground before I let you touch my son."
I opened my thumb a fraction of a millimeter. The drive slipped slightly.
"Stop!" Daniel screamed, holding out his hands. He looked at Harris. "Put the gun down! Don't shoot her!"
Harris hesitated, his eyes narrowing. "Daniel, if she leaves, she talks. You’re leaving me exposed."
"I don't care about you!" Daniel roared. "I need that drive!"
Harris’s face hardened. The realization that Daniel would betray him just as easily as he had betrayed his father washed over the corrupt agent. Harris slowly lowered the gun, but he didn't put it away.
"Kick the gun away, Harris," I ordered.
"Listen to me, Mara," Daniel pleaded, taking a slow step forward, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "You’re tired. You’re bleeding. You just gave birth. Hand me the drive, and I swear on my life, you can walk away. You take the kid. Just let me have the drive."
He was lying. I saw it in the dark, soulless depths of his eyes. The moment he had the drive, Harris would kill me, and Daniel would take Leo to unlock the trust.
I took a deep breath, preparing to drop the drive and seal his fate.
Before I could open my fingers, the screech of tires tore through the night air.
Headlights blinded us as a silver Mercedes S-Class smashed straight through the chain-link security gates of the airfield. The car didn't slow down. It barreled across the tarmac at seventy miles an hour, heading directly for the idling jet.
Daniel spun around, raising his arms in horror. "What the hell?!"
The Mercedes slammed violently into the front landing gear of the Gulfstream jet with a deafening crunch of metal and fiberglass. The plane shuddered violently, its front nose dipping as the gear buckled, rendering the aircraft completely grounded.
The driver’s side door of the crushed Mercedes kicked open.
Eleanor stepped out.
She was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, her trench coat ruined, but she stood tall, a mother who had finally found her absolute limit.
"You aren't going anywhere, Daniel," Eleanor said, her voice carrying over the hissing steam of the ruined car radiator.
Daniel stared at his mother, his face contorting into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. His escape route was destroyed. His billions were hanging over a sewer grate.
"You stupid, worthless old woman!" Daniel screamed, completely losing his mind.
He didn't hesitate. He lunged toward Harris, ripping the Glock out of the agent's hand with unexpected speed.
Daniel leveled the gun directly at Eleanor’s chest.
"I’ll kill all of you!" Daniel roared.
"Daniel, no!" I screamed.
He pulled the trigger.
A gunshot rang out, echoing off the metal of the ruined plane.
Eleanor jerked backward, clutching her left shoulder, and collapsed onto the wet tarmac.
Daniel spun around, aiming the gun frantically back at me. "Give me the drive! Now!"
But the gunshot had masked the sound of approaching sirens.
Suddenly, the airfield was flooded with flashing red and blue lights. Half a dozen armored federal vehicles poured through the breached gates, screeching to a halt around us in a tight perimeter.
These weren't Victor’s paid men. These were the federal prosecutors I had dialed on the burner phone.
"FBI! Drop the weapon!" a dozen voices commanded over loudspeakers. Laser sights danced across Daniel’s chest in a web of lethal red dots.
Daniel looked at the lasers on his chest, then at the gun in his hand, and finally at me.
"You destroyed my life," he whispered, a broken, pathetic sob escaping his lips.
May you like
"No, Daniel," I said softly, stepping safely backward into the wall of federal agents swarming to protect me. "You did."
Daniel dropped the gun and fell to his knees in the rain.
