Chapter 10 - Collision Course on the Tarmac
The heavy baggage tractor lurched forward with a loud, mechanical whine, its large rubber tires tearing up chunks of wet turf as Chloe hauled the steering wheel hard toward the open tarmac. The rain poured down in blinding sheets, turning the grey concrete runway into a slick, reflective mirror under the airfield lights.
A hundred yards ahead, the black helicopter’s turbine whine reached a deafening pitch, its massive rotor blades kicking up a furious vortex of wind and water that flattened the surrounding grass. Julian Vance stood on the open cabin step, one hand gripping the door frame as he turned to look back at the oncoming tractor with a look of sheer, unmasked disbelief.
“Stop the vehicle, Chloe!” Marcus shouted, running behind the tractor for a few brief steps before realizing she was already fully committed to the collision course.
Chloe didn’t slow down. She leaned forward over the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she pressed the accelerator all the way to the floorboards. The tractor’s engine roared, eating up the distance between them and the aircraft with terrifying speed.
Julian scrambled inside the cabin, screaming commands to the pilot through the open cockpit door. The helicopter’s landing skids lifted a mere two feet off the wet concrete as the pilot tried to initiate an emergency vertical takeoff before the rotor RPMs had fully stabilized.
“You’re not getting away this time!” Chloe yelled into the roaring wind.
She aimed the heavy front bumper of the baggage tractor directly at the helicopter’s tail boom.
With a sickening screech of tearing metal and shattering fiberglass, the tractor slammed into the aircraft’s tail assembly just as it cleared the ground. The impact spun the helicopter violently around on its axis like a top, throwing the aircraft off balance and sending it skidding sideways across the wet tarmac in a shower of brilliant orange sparks.
The helicopter’s main rotor blades clipped the concrete with a deafening explosion of composite material, shearing off entirely before the fuselage flipped onto its side and slid to a halt near the perimeter drainage ditch.
Chloe slammed on the tractor brakes, the heavy machine sliding across the slick runway before coming to a stop just feet from the smoking wreckage.
She jumped down from the driver’s seat, her white sneakers splashing into the puddles of aviation fuel and rainwater mixing on the ground. She didn't feel the cold; she didn't feel the bruises from the hangar collapse. Her entire focus was locked on the shattered cabin door of the overturned helicopter.
Marcus sprinted up beside her, his rifle raised as he kicked open the jammed cabin door of the aircraft.
Inside, thick black smoke billowed from the ruptured instrument panel. The pilot was slumped unconscious over the cyclic control stick, bleeding heavily from a head wound. In the rear passenger compartment, pinned beneath a collapsed leather seat and a heavy communications console, lay Julian Vance.
His dark overcoat was torn, and his face was covered in a mask of blood and soot, but his eyes were still open, glaring up at Chloe with a mixture of hatred and profound defeat.
“You... you ruined everything,” Julian coughed, a thin line of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth as he struggled vainly against the heavy metal beam trapping his chest. “The family... the legacy... you destroyed it all over a ghost.”
“My mother wasn't a ghost, Julian,” Chloe said, her voice terrifyingly calm as she leaned down, looking directly into his failing eyes. “She was a person. And today, she finally got her justice.”
Julian’s eyes flickered, the malicious light slowly fading from his expression as his chest gave one final, shallow heave before going entirely still.
Marcus reached in, checking the pulse at Julian’s neck before shaking his head and pulling back. “He’s gone, Chloe. The weight of the wreckage crushed his internal organs.”
Chloe stood up straight, wiping a strand of wet blonde hair out of her face. She looked past the smoking wreckage toward the distant horizon where the grey dawn was finally breaking through the heavy storm clouds, washing the dark tarmac in a pale, clean light.
“It’s over,” Marcus said softly, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“No, Marcus,” Chloe replied, reaching into her pocket to touch the cold metal microcard resting safely against her palm. “It’s just beginning. There’s still one final name on the original ledger that hasn't answered for any of this.”
Marcus frowned, his expression turning sharp. “Who?”
Before Chloe could answer, the secure radio clipped to Marcus’s tactical vest crackled to life with an urgent, high-priority alert from the federal holding facility downtown.
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“Agent Vance, respond! We have a major security breach at the central precinct holding cells! Arthur Vance has just been released on a forged federal writ signed by an unknown federal judge!”
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