Chapter 8 - The Husband's Revenge
Mark pressed the incredibly sharp edge of the blade against Sarah's neck, instantly drawing a thin, bright line of blood.
He angrily declared to the room that he was the one who had originally stolen the digital money from the cartel's accounts.
Sarah had manipulated his feelings, used his underworld connections, and brilliantly planned to leave him to face the cartel's wrath completely alone.
My mother screamed in sheer, absolute terror, completely paralyzed by the sudden, terrifying shift in power.
Silas laughed mockingly at the pathetic display of American greed and ordered his mercenaries to open fire immediately.
The hangar instantly erupted into a chaotic, deafening, and horrific warzone of flying bullets and shattered glass.
Mark brutally kicked Sarah to the concrete floor and dove behind a stack of metal shipping crates to return rapid fire.
I dropped to my hands and knees, scrambling desperately across the filthy concrete floor as hot bullets whizzed past my head.
I crawled frantically toward Silas, who was entirely distracted by the intense, bloody shootout with Mark's hidden backup team.
Silas carelessly dropped the small vial of antidote onto the floor as he aggressively reloaded his heavy assault rifle.
I lunged forward with everything I had left, snatching the tiny glass bottle before it could be crushed by heavy combat boots.
I secured the antidote safely in my pocket and crawled frantically toward the table holding the aluminum briefcase.
My mother desperately tried to stop me, grabbing my ankle with a vicious grip, but I kicked her away with absolute, unbridled disgust.
I grabbed the heavy briefcase and slammed it shut, successfully securing the fifty million dollars in cartel funds.
I sprinted back toward the entrance of the hangar, dodging fiery, dangerous sparks from freshly ruptured aviation fuel lines.
I reached the armored truck where Vance was lying, noting that his breathing was incredibly shallow, wet, and erratic.
I plunged the antidote needle directly into his chest, praying to God with all my heart that I was not too late.
Vance gasped deeply and violently, his eyes flying open as the powerful cure rushed through his failing veins.
I turned back to look at the burning, bullet-riddled hangar, watching the final, chaotic moments of my twisted family.
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A wounded, bleeding Sarah crawled out of the flaming wreckage, locking eyes with me from fifty yards away.
She smiled a bloody, psychotic, and utterly defeated smile, and pressed her thumb down hard on the red detonator button.
