Chapter 8 - The Ambush On The Rain-Slicked Teterboro Tarmac
The heavy hydraulic stairs of the Gulfstream lowered slowly into the freezing, rain-swept New Jersey night air.
Mist and jet fuel exhaust swirled together beneath the bright yellow floodlights of Hangar Four.
Vincent stepped out onto the top platform, his white shirt soaked instantly by the heavy driving rain.
His broad, athletic frame was fully visible, his hands held loosely at his sides as he looked down at the men below.
Richard Vance stepped forward from behind his armed mercenaries, a cold, victorious smirk on his face.
"You should have stayed in Miami, Vincent," Vance called out over the roar of the idling jet engines.
"Your father always said you were too emotional to run this family," Vance added, wiping rain from his expensive glasses.
"Turning this plane around was the dumbest mistake you ever made in your entire life."
Vincent walked down the metal stairs slowly, his boots clicking rhythmically against the wet steel rungs.
"I came back for my son, Richard," Vincent said, his voice carrying clearly through the howling coastal wind.
"Or should I say... the boy you bought from a surrogate to steal my family's legacy?"
Vance’s smug smile instantly vanished, replaced by a dark, furious scowl that revealed his true corporate greed.
"So the blonde girl blabbed," Vance spat out contemptuously, raising a gloved hand toward his tactical team.
"It doesn't change a single thing, Vincent. The transfer papers are already filed with the state registry."
"As of midnight tonight, I am the legal guardian of the child and the managing director of the trust," Vance sneered.
"And you are just a dead fugitive who resisted an armed extortion attempt on a private runway."
"You always talked too much, Richard," Vincent replied coolly, stopping at the base of the plane stairs.
"Just like you did eight years ago when you ordered my father to eliminate that girl on the Cooper River Bridge."
Vance let out a sharp, mocking laugh that was swallowed by the sound of thunder rolling over the airfield.
"That girl was a threat to our bottom line, Vincent! Just like her sister sitting inside that plane right now!"
"Kill him," Vance commanded his men with a wave of his arm. "And secure the infant from the cabin!"
Before the mercenaries could raise their rifles, the massive halogen floodlights of Hangar Four suddenly detonated in blinding flashes.
Total darkness engulfed the tarmac, plunging the entire runway into pitch-black shadow under the pouring rain.
From the top of the aircraft stairs, Sarah held a tactical EMP pulse unit she had taken from the jet's emergency locker.
Screams of confusion echoed through the dark as the mercenaries' red laser sights failed completely.
Inside the dark, Vincent moved like an apex predator, drawing his weapon and firing three rapid shots by sound alone.
Muzzle flashes illuminated the rain in blinding yellow bursts, followed by the heavy thuds of falling bodies.
Vincent advanced through the storm, his slicked-back hair dripping wet as he closed the distance toward Richard Vance.
Vance scrambled backward in pure panic, slipping on the wet asphalt and dropping his umbrella into a puddle.
"Vincent! Wait! We can make a deal!" Vance shrieked hysterically, crawling toward the open door of his Escalade.
Vincent stepped out of the darkness, towering over his former lawyer like an inescapable specter of vengeance.
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He pressed the warm barrel of his semi-automatic handgun directly against the center of Richard Vance’s forehead.
"The deal is off, Richard," Vincent whispered into the freezing rain.
