Chapter 7 - The Descent Into The Teterboro Fog
The heavy Gulfstream jet descended rapidly through the thick, gray cloud cover hanging over Northern New Jersey.
Outside the windows, the bright, sparkling lights of the New York City skyline were completely smothered by rain and fog.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was dead silent, save for the mechanical whine of the landing gear deploying.
Victoria sat curled up in the corner seat, staring blankly at the floorboards, completely broken and silent.
Vincent stood near the wooden bulkhead wall, checking the magazine of his black semi-automatic handgun.
He racked the slide with a sharp metallic clack, sliding the weapon back into his shoulder holster beneath his shirt.
Sarah sat across from him, holding baby Liam securely against her chest in his bright red onesie.
She had prepared a fresh bottle of warm water, gently feeding the exhausted child who nursed quietly in her arms.
"You handle a baby remarkably well for a woman who spent eight years planning a execution," Vincent noted dryly.
His dark hair was slightly messy now, a few strands falling over his forehead, giving him a dangerous, feral appearance.
"My sister left behind a two-year-old daughter when your vehicle pushed her off that bridge, Vincent," Sarah said softly.
"I raised her myself while hunting down every single man responsible for that night."
Vincent looked away, a brief, genuine flicker of guilt passing across his hardened Italian-American features.
It was the first time in his life he had ever confronted the human cost of his family's ruthless corporate empire.
"If we survive this tarmac landing," Vincent said quietly, "I will give you the original satellite footage myself."
"You won't have to leak it to the media... I'll sign a full confession to your sister's murder."
Sarah looked up at him, her blue eyes searching his face with intense, sharp skepticism.
"Why would an untouchable man like you give up his freedom so easily?" she asked.
Vincent looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully in her arms, his eyes softening for a fraction of a second.
"Because this boy deserves to grow up in an America where he doesn't have to become a monster like me," Vincent answered.
The pilot’s voice crackled through the cabin intercom system, breaking the heavy emotional tension.
"Touchdown in two minutes, Mr. Miller. Tower reports heavy fog and three unidentified black SUVs parked near Hangar Four."
"Keep our taxi speed high, Captain," Vincent commanded into the wall phone. "Do not kill the engines after we land."
"Understood, sir. Preparing for immediate tactical rollout."
The jet wheels slammed against the wet asphalt of Teterboro Airport with a loud, rubbery screech.
The sudden deceleration threw the passengers forward as the aircraft reverse-thrusters roared against the rain.
Outside, three matte-black Cadillac Escalades were lined up in a defensive formation near the private hangar doors.
Flashing red and blue strobe lights were completely absent; these were not law enforcement vehicles.
Through the rain-streaked windows, Sarah could see six heavily armed men in black tactical gear stepping out into the dark.
At the center of the group stood Richard Vance, wearing a heavy trench coat and holding an umbrella against the storm.
"He brought a full hit squad," Victoria whispered from her seat, her eyes wide with fresh, paralyzing terror.
Vincent unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, pulling a heavy tactical vest over his chest and adjusting the straps.
He turned to Sarah, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying, lethal composure.
"Stay inside the cabin with the boy until I give the clear signal," Vincent ordered sternly.
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"And if I don't come back up those stairs in five minutes..." Vincent added, handing her a spare ignition key.
"Take the jet, tell the pilot to fly to Canada, and don't ever look back."
