Chapter 7 - The Final Countdown
I helped the shivering, violently poisoned Vance into the spacious back seat of Silas's heavily armored truck.
Silas and his armed mercenaries climbed in, forcing me to sit in the front passenger seat and provide precise directions.
I knew that Sarah had previously chartered a private jet at a secluded, private airfield on the northern edge of the city.
I commanded the cartel driver to take the fastest highway route, watching the digital clock on the dashboard mercilessly tick down.
Vance groaned in the backseat in sheer agony, his skin rapidly turning a terrifying, sickly shade of pale blue.
I reached back and squeezed his hand, silently promising that I would not let him die for my family's horrific sins.
We arrived at the desolate private airfield with only twenty agonizing minutes remaining on the poison's lethal clock.
The dark runway was illuminated by sparse, flickering floodlights, and a sleek private jet was idling near a massive metal hangar.
Silas aggressively ordered his men to surround the perimeter and eliminate anyone who stood in their way.
He grabbed my arm roughly and forced me to walk directly in front of him as a living human shield.
We entered the cavernous, echoing hangar, stepping silently past heavy crates of aviation fuel and abandoned luggage carts.
In the center of the massive building, Sarah and my mother were celebrating gleefully with glasses of expensive, imported champagne.
A heavy aluminum briefcase sat wide open on a folding table, displaying a massive satellite hard drive containing the stolen crypto codes.
I stepped boldly into the harsh overhead light, causing Sarah to drop her crystal glass in absolute, speechless shock.
I demanded that she hand over the briefcase immediately so I could trade it to the cartel for Vance's life.
Sarah recovered her composure quickly, her shock turning into a wicked, deeply arrogant burst of cruel laughter.
She pulled a small digital detonator from her designer silk purse, holding her manicured thumb directly over the red button.
She proudly announced that the entire aviation hangar was meticulously rigged with C4 plastic explosives just in case the cartel found them.
She violently threatened to blow us all into a million pieces if Silas took a single step closer to the money.
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Suddenly, a dark, stealthy figure dropped from the metal maintenance catwalk above, landing directly behind my sister.
It was Mark, the husband Sarah had callously discarded, holding a massive, jagged hunting knife tightly to her throat.
