Chapter 7 - The Airstrip in the Dark
The black SUV tore through the winding, tree-lined roads of upstate New York, its headlights cutting through the pitch-black night like a knife. Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, loading a heavy matte-black tactical rifle with methodical, chilling precision.
I sat in the back seat between Arthur and Marcus, Gabriel’s head of security. Marcus was a mountain of a man who had barely spoken a word since Gabriel briefed him on the situation, but the sheer amount of weaponry strapped to his tactical vest spoke volumes.
“Evelyn’s private airstrip is located on an old logging road about three miles off the main highway,” Arthur said, leaning forward to point at a digital map glowing on a tablet. “It’s surrounded by dense pine forest. The jet will be waiting on the tarmac, but she’ll have a perimeter of guards in the tree line.”
“We hit the perimeter first,” Gabriel commanded, snapping a loaded magazine into his rifle. “Marcus, you take the left flank. Take out their snipers quietly. Arthur, you take the right. I’m going straight up the middle to the plane.”
“And what about me?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. The reality of what we were about to do was finally sinking in. I wasn't in a mansion cleaning floors anymore. I was riding into a warzone.
Gabriel turned in his seat to look at me. The harsh glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the fierce determination in his eyes.
“You stay in the car with the doors locked until the shooting stops, Rachel,” Gabriel said firmly. “I brought you because if they try to move the boy during the chaos, he’ll be terrified. He won't run to men with guns. He needs a friendly face.”
I nodded, clutching the seatbelt tightly. “I understand.”
The SUV slowed as we approached a rusted, unmarked gate hidden in the tree line. Marcus hopped out, produced a set of heavy bolt cutters, and sliced through the padlock in seconds. He swung the gate open, and we rolled onto a cracked asphalt road that hadn't seen commercial use in decades.
A mile down the road, the trees parted, revealing a small, dimly lit runway.
Sitting in the center of the tarmac was a sleek, silver Gulfstream jet. Its engines were already whining, a low, powerful hum that vibrated in my chest.
Surrounding the plane were at least a dozen armed men in black tactical gear.
And standing near the boarding stairs was Evelyn Laurent.
Even from a distance, I could recognize the woman from the photograph. She wore a pristine white trench coat, looking entirely out of place on a dirty airstrip in the middle of the night. Beside her stood Vanessa, looking terrified and clutching her mother’s arm.
But my eyes immediately locked onto the small figure standing between them.
It was the boy.
He was holding a small stuffed bear, his dark hair ruffled by the wind from the jet engines. He looked so small, so incredibly fragile against the backdrop of heavily armed mercenaries.
“They’re boarding,” Gabriel hissed, his hand resting on the door handle.
“Wait,” Arthur cautioned, peering through a pair of night-vision binoculars. “Evelyn isn't getting on the plane. She’s handing the boy off to a courier. She’s using him as a distraction while she escapes.”
Gabriel didn't care about Evelyn’s escape plan. He only cared about the little boy walking slowly up the stairs of the jet.
“Marcus. Arthur. Go.” Gabriel ordered.
The two men slipped out of the SUV, vanishing into the dark tree line like ghosts.
Gabriel looked at me one last time. “Lock the doors, Rachel. Keep your head down.”
He stepped out of the vehicle, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. I immediately hit the lock button and slid down in the seat, peering over the edge of the window.
For thirty agonizing seconds, nothing happened. The whine of the jet engines grew louder. The boy reached the top of the stairs and disappeared inside the cabin. The courier followed, and the heavy cabin door began to close.
Then, the night erupted.
Three suppressed shots echoed from the left tree line. Three of Evelyn’s guards dropped instantly to the tarmac. A split second later, Arthur opened fire from the right, providing covering fire as Gabriel broke from the tree line and sprinted directly toward the plane.
Panic seized the airstrip. Evelyn screamed, diving behind a stack of fuel barrels, dragging Vanessa with her. The remaining guards scrambled for cover, returning fire blindly into the dark forest.
Gabriel moved like a force of nature. He didn't bother with cover. He fired methodically as he advanced, dropping two more guards who tried to intercept him. The sheer, overwhelming ferocity of his assault broke the mercenaries' lines.
He reached the boarding stairs just as the jet’s cabin door clicked shut.
Gabriel didn't hesitate. He swung his rifle around and smashed the heavy buttstock against the small reinforced window of the door. The glass spider-webbed but didn't break.
Inside the jet, the pilot panicked and began rolling the aircraft forward. The engines roared to life, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and debris.
“No!” I screamed, watching helplessly from the SUV. The plane was moving. Gabriel was clinging to the railing of the boarding stairs as the jet accelerated down the runway.
Gabriel braced his boots against the railing, pulled a heavy tactical knife from his vest, and jammed it directly into the locking mechanism of the cabin door. He twisted it violently with both hands.
Sparks flew. The lock gave way with a screech of tearing metal.
Gabriel yanked the door open and threw himself inside the moving plane.
For ten terrifying seconds, I couldn't see what was happening inside. The jet continued rolling down the runway, picking up speed. If it lifted off, Gabriel and his son would be gone forever.
Suddenly, a gunshot flashed from inside the cockpit.
The jet violently swerved to the left, the engines screaming in protest. The tires screeched against the asphalt as the plane skidded off the runway and crashed into a muddy ditch at the edge of the tree line.
Silence fell over the airstrip. The engines whined down to a halt.
I didn't wait for Marcus or Arthur. I didn't care about Gabriel’s orders to stay in the car. I unlocked the door and sprinted across the tarmac toward the crashed jet.
“Gabriel!” I screamed, my voice raw.
I reached the bottom of the boarding stairs just as a figure emerged from the smoke-filled cabin.
It was Gabriel.
He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, his suit ruined, breathing heavily. But his arms were wrapped tightly around a small, terrified bundle.
The little boy buried his face in Gabriel’s neck, crying softly, clutching his stuffed bear.
Gabriel looked down at his son, tears streaming down his soot-stained face. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the boy’s dark hair.
“I’ve got you,” Gabriel whispered, his voice cracking with a love so profound it shattered my heart. “I’ve got you, Leo. I’m your father. You’re safe.”
I stood at the bottom of the stairs, tears pouring down my face, watching a family finally reunite after four years of hell.
But the moment of peace was shattered by a sharp, venomous laugh echoing from the shadows near the fuel barrels.
I turned around.
May you like
Evelyn Laurent stood ten feet away. She was holding a silver revolver, pointing it directly at my chest.
“How touching,” Evelyn sneered, cocking the hammer of the gun. “But I think we’ve had enough reunions for one night.”
