Chapter 8 - Runway Zero
The coastal airfield was shrouded in dense ocean fog and driving rain.
The twin-engine cargo plane was gathering speed down the two-mile asphalt strip, its navigational lights blinking through the mist.
Arthur drove his heavy truck through the perimeter chain-link fence without slowing down, sending sparks and metal flying into the dark.
He aligned his truck with the runway, flooring the accelerator until the speedometer pushed past one hundred miles per hour.
Through the rain-streaked windshield, Arthur could see the cargo plane's rear loading ramp was still partially open, dangling two feet above the tarmac.
Inside the dimly lit cargo bay, Arthur spotted the outline of little Leo tied to a passenger seat, crying helplessly.
Standing beside the child was the commander of the mercenary squad, struggling to manually lock the ramp hydraulics.
Arthur gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, calculating the distance with terrifying precision.
"Hang on, Leo!" Arthur whispered through clenched teeth.
He pushed the truck to its absolute mechanical limit, pulling the heavy vehicle directly beneath the plane's rising tail assembly.
The turbulence from the massive propellers buffeted the truck violently, threatening to flip it onto two wheels.
Arthur matched the plane's exact speed, positioning his front bumper directly beneath the metal lip of the open cargo ramp.
He set the truck's automated cruise control, unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed out through the driver's side window onto the hood of his speeding vehicle.
The wind screamed in his ears like a howling demon, trying to rip him away into the darkness.
Arthur braced his boots against the truck's raised hood scoop, took a deep breath, and leaped forward with everything he had.
His hands slammed onto the corrugated metal edge of the cargo ramp, his fingers catching the steel grating just as the truck veered away and crashed into the runway lights below.
Arthur swung his legs up into the cargo bay just as the plane's wheels lifted off the wet asphalt into the stormy sky.
The mercenary commander turned around in utter disbelief, drawing a combat knife from his tactical vest with a menacing growl.
"You should have stayed on the ground, billionaire," the mercenary shouted over the roar of the engines.
Arthur stood up to his full height, his eyes burning with a lethal calm.
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"You touched my son," Arthur said, stepping forward onto the vibrating floor.
"You don't get to leave this plane alive."
