Chapter 4 - The Tarmac at Greenbush
The rain began to fall just as Michael’s SUV cleared the tree line bordering the Greenbush airfield. It wasn't a summer storm; it was a cold, sharp downpour that turned the gravel runway into a slick, reflective mirror. In the distance, the twin rotors of an Eurocopter EC130 were already spinning, their rhythmic thump-thump-thump cutting through the sound of the wind.
A sleek black Mercedes sat idling near the edge of the hangar.
Michael didn't slow down. He accelerated, his tires throwing up a massive sheet of muddy water as he swung the heavy SUV around, parking diagonally across the nose of the Mercedes, completely pinning it against the corrugated iron wall of the building.
The door of the Mercedes flew open. Jason stepped out into the pouring rain, his expensive leather jacket instantly soaked, his face a contorted mask of pure, unadulterated fury. He didn't have his Pelican case anymore; he had a sleek, silver laptop tucked under his arm and a compact semi-automatic pistol gripped tightly in his right hand.
"You arrogant piece of trash!" Jason roared over the sound of the helicopter rotors, stepping toward Michael’s vehicle. "You emptied my accounts! You broke into my servers! You think you can ruin me?"
Michael stepped out of the SUV. He didn't draw his weapon. He stood in the open rain, letting the water wash the dust of the past three days from his face. He looked at the man who had terrorized his daughter, and for the first time since Friday afternoon, Michael felt entirely calm.
"The money didn't belong to you, Jason," Michael called back, his voice carrying clearly over the storm. "It belongs to the girl you left in the dirt. It’s going to pay for her therapy, her schooling, and the rest of her life. You don't have an asset left in this world."
Jason lifted the pistol, his arm perfectly steady, his teeth bared in a snarl. "I still have a flight to catch, Michael. And you're not going to be alive to tell the feds which direction I flew."
"You aren't catching any flight, Jason," Michael said smoothly, pointing a single finger toward the cockpit of the helicopter.
Through the rain-streaked glass of the aircraft, the pilot slowly raised both hands, pressing them against the side window. Behind him in the cabin, two state police tactical operators materialized from the shadows, their high-powered rifles aimed directly through the partition at the pilot's head. Marcus had arrived twenty minutes earlier.
Jason’s eyes widened, his head snapping back toward Michael. The realization that he was completely trapped, that his wealth had been stripped and his escape route entirely sealed, broke the last remnant of his corporate composure. He raised the gun, his finger tightening around the trigger.
Boom.
The sound of the gunshot didn't come from Jason’s weapon, nor did it come from Michael’s pocket.
From the edge of the tree line, three tactical vehicles roared onto the tarmac, their high-beams blinding the clearing. Detective Reyes stood behind the open door of the lead unit, her service weapon still smoking from the warning shot she had placed precisely through the windshield of the Mercedes, shattering the glass into a million tiny webbed fractures.
"Drop the weapon, Jason!" Reyes’s voice echoed through a megaphone. "The federal warrants have been unsealed! You are surrounded!"
Jason looked at the police, then looked at Michael, his chest heaving as the rain poured down his face. For a single, terrifying second, he looked as though he might turn the gun on Michael anyway, just to ensure no one won the game. But the cold, unyielding weight of twenty tactical lasers focusing onto his chest reminded him of his own mortality.
He dropped the gun into the mud.
May you like
As the officers tackled him to the wet gravel, forcing his face into the dirt and clicking the heavy steel cuffs around his wrists, Michael walked over until he was standing directly over the fallen man.
"You told Emily that little liars live like dogs," Michael whispered, his voice cut through with a terrifying, absolute finality. "But she didn't lie, Jason. She told me exactly who you were. And tomorrow, when you wake up in a concrete cell, you're going to realize you're the one who’s never leaving the cage."
