Chapter 8 - THE LEGACY OF THE ROMANOS
The wind whipped across the dark tarmac of the private airstrip, howling like a wounded animal.
Ella buried her face in Richard’s heavy wool coat, sobbing hysterically.
“Daddy! Help me!” her small, terrified voice pierced through the storm.
Gabriel dropped his weapon onto the wet pavement. He raised both hands slowly, showing he was completely unarmed.
“Don’t hurt her, Richard,” Gabriel pleaded, his voice stripped of every ounce of authority, leaving only a desperate, breaking father. “She’s just a child. She doesn’t know anything about the archives, she doesn’t know about the money. Take everything I own. Take the ports, take the ships, take the house. Just give me my daughter.”
Richard sneered, pressing the cold steel barrel harder against Ella’s temple.
“I’m taking the empire, Gabriel. And I’m taking the girl with me as insurance until my plane clears airspace. Don’t follow us, or she dies in the air.”
Richard began backing slowly toward the open stairs of the private jet idling fifty feet away, its twin jet engines whining into a deafening crescendo.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I looked around desperately in the dark, blinding rain.
My eyes landed on the wrecked black sedan lying in the muddy ditch ten feet away from Richard.
The driver’s side door was hanging open, and resting on the wet passenger seat inside was the heavy, discarded flashlight Richard’s men had been using.
Without thinking, I dropped low, keeping my body hidden behind the armored nose of Gabriel’s SUV, and scrambled through the mud toward the ditch.
“Claire, stay back!” Gabriel yelled, his eyes darting toward me in panic, afraid I would draw Richard’s fire.
I ignored him. I dove into the muddy ditch, my hands frantically searching the passenger seat of the wrecked car.
My fingers brushed against the heavy metal casing of the flashlight. I grabbed it.
When I popped back up, Richard was only ten feet away from the airplane stairs, still holding Ella tightly against him, his attention entirely focused on keeping Gabriel covered.
“Going somewhere, Richard?” I called out sharply.
Richard spun his head around, his eyes locking onto me in fury.
“You irritating little maid—”
Before he could finish the sentence, I switched on the high-intensity tactical strobe light and clicked it directly into Richard’s eyes.
The blinding, strobe-like beam of white light flashed at five hundred lumens right into his pupils.
Richard shrieked, instinctively squeezing his eyes shut and throwing a hand up to shield his face.
The gun wavered for a split second.
That split second was all Gabriel needed.
With the speed of a striking predator, Gabriel lunged forward across the tarmac. He slammed his body into Richard, tackling the old man hard onto the wet concrete.
The revolver flew from Richard’s hand, skidding away across the runway.
Ella tumbled safely into the shallow grass beside the tarmac, crying out in shock.
I didn’t hesitate. I sprinted across the grass, scooped Ella up into my arms, and pulled her tight against my chest, covering her eyes so she wouldn’t see the violence unfolding before her.
“Daddy’s right here, sweetheart,” I whispered, rocking her gently as we backed away. “You’re safe.”
On the tarmac, Gabriel sat astride Richard, his massive fists pounding down relentlessly into the traitor’s face.
“You killed my uncle!” Gabriel roared, striking him with every ounce of pain and betrayal he had bottled up for twelve years. “You betrayed my father! You touched my daughter!”
Richard spat blood onto the pavement, laughing weakly through broken teeth.
“Go ahead… kill me,” Richard wheezed. “You’ll never find… the rest of the offshore accounts… they’re buried with me.”
“I don’t want your money, Richard,” Gabriel snarled, grabbing the old man by the collar and hoisting him into the air. “I want justice.”
Sirens began to wail in the distance, cutting through the storm. Marco and the remaining loyal guards arrived in two backup SUVs, flooding the airstrip with bright red and blue emergency lights.
Gabriel tossed Richard’s broken body onto the concrete like a sack of garbage.
He stood up, breathing heavily, soaked to the bone, and turned around.
He walked slowly toward us.
When he reached us, he dropped to his knees in the mud, pulling both Ella and me into a fierce, suffocating embrace.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel choked out, his hands trembling as he touched his daughter’s face over and over again. “Did he hurt you, baby?”
“I’m okay, Daddy,” Ella sobbed, wrapping her small arms around his neck. “Claire saved me.”
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Gabriel looked up at me, his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears under the flashing police lights.
“Thank you, Claire,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You saved my entire world tonight.”
