Chapter 13
The freezing wind whipping across the tarmac of the private airfield in rural Maine stung Sarah’s face as their tactical transport touched down near the perimeter fence. Snow flurries danced in the glare of the searchlights as federal agents and state troopers moved swiftly into position around a sleek twin-engine private jet idling on the runway, its turbine engines screaming a high-pitched whine into the winter dusk.
Sarah and David bolted from the transport vehicle, falling in behind Agent Miller and a heavily armed federal tactical unit. Through the swirling snow, they could see two figures hurrying up the portable boarding stairs of the aircraft: Julian Vance leading the way, clutching a heavy leather briefcase, followed closely by Robert Vance in his signature black suit, moving with a stiff, unyielding dignity even in defeat.
"Federal agents! Stop right there!" Agent Miller’s amplified voice cut sharply through the roar of the engines.
Julian froze on the top step of the boarding ladder, turning back with an expression of panicked disbelief before looking down at the wall of tactical officers surrounding the aircraft. Robert paused as well, standing tall on the metal platform, his grey eyes sweeping across the tarmac until they locked directly onto Sarah and David standing in the forefront.
Slowly, Robert descended the steps, leaving Julian stranded on the ladder. The older man walked down to the tarmac, his posture rigid, his defensive demeanor utterly intact despite the flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers boxing in the jet.
"You always did lack discretion, Sarah," Robert said, his voice carrying clearly over the wind as he stopped a few feet away from her. "Dragging federal bureaucracy into family matters will destroy everything your ancestors built."
"You didn't build Oakhaven, Robert," Sarah replied, stepping forward until she was inches away from him, her eyes burning with intense, restrained fury. "You stole it. And you killed my mother to keep it."
Robert’s expression hardened, a flicker of genuine panic crossing his eyes before he masked it behind cold disdain. "Prove it in a court that cares, Captain."
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"We already have," David said calmly, stepping up beside his wife and holding out the federal arrest warrant. "The audio logs, the financial ledgers, the altered timestamps—they're all entered into federal evidence. Your game is over."
Before Robert could respond, federal agents moved in swiftly, placing plastic cuffs around his wrists and securing Julian as he was led down from the aircraft. The arrest was executed with clean, disciplined precision, free of theatrics or shouting, marking the quiet, absolute dismantling of Oakhaven’s corrupt legacy.
