Chapter 10 - The Fall of the Queen
Julian’s boots slammed against the concrete as he launched himself across the tarmac like a sprinter leaving the blocks. Helena’s eyes widened in sheer horror as she tried to readjust her grip on the yellow blanket, but it was already too late. Julian collided with her in a crushing impact, his strong arms wrapping securely around both his wife and the bundle containing the newborn baby, using his own momentum to drive them both backward away from the precipice and onto the safety of the flat concrete pad.
The helicopter’s rotor wash kicked up a blinding cloud of dust and gravel, stinging their skin as they hit the ground hard. The heavy matte-black override transmitter flew from Julian’s pocket, skidding across the tarmac and tumbling harmlessly over the edge into the ravine below.
Helena screamed, thrashing beneath him, her white silk robe tearing as she fought like a trapped animal. "Get off me! Get off me, you bastard!"
Julian didn't strike her; he simply pinned her shoulders firmly to the ground with unbreakable force, while his right arm cradled the bright yellow blanket against his chest. He pulled the newborn away from the struggle, pressing the tiny, crying infant safely against his black tuxedo jacket, right over the crushed white rose on his lapel.
Within three seconds, federal agents and state troopers swarmed the crash site. Heavy hands grabbed Helena by the arms, hauling her upright as she kicked and screamed obscenities into the windy morning air. Two pairs of steel handcuffs snapped onto her wrists with a sharp, metallic click that echoed over the dying whine of the helicopter engines.
"You're making a mistake! He set me up! He's a monster!" Helena shrieked, her voice cracking as the agents dragged her away toward the waiting police cruisers.
Julian slowly rose to his feet, cradling the newborn baby with a tenderness that contrasted violently with the brutal precision of his takedown. He smoothed the folds of the yellow blanket, his dark eyes watching impassively as his wife was forced into the back of an unmarked sedan. The doors slammed shut, cutting off her muffled screams.
Martha hurried out from the tree line, running across the concrete with her hands pressed over her mouth, tears of relief streaming down her blonde hair. She rushed up to Julian, her eyes wide as she looked down at the unharmed infant in his arms.
"Oh, thank God... thank God the baby is safe," Martha breathed, her knees trembling as she steadied herself against Julian’s shoulder. "Mr. Vance, are you alright?"
Julian didn't answer immediately. He looked down at the tiny face of his daughter, who had finally quieted down, her small chest rising and falling in a natural, peaceful rhythm.
"She's safe, Martha," Julian said softly, his voice carrying an exhausted, profound weight.
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He turned away from the helipad, walking slowly back toward the grand estate where the shattered remnants of his wedding guests were finally being escorted off the property by security. But as Julian reached the edge of the driveway, his smartphone buzzed violently in his pocket, displaying an unknown international number and a text message that froze him in his tracks.
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