Chapter 9 - The Reckoning
The tension on the tarmac was thick enough to suffocate us.
Richard Vale stood firmly in front of the limousine, the barrel of his shotgun leveled directly at my chest.
He looked nothing like the wealthy, polished patriarch who had toasted to his new daughter-in-law hours earlier.
His tuxedo was rumpled, his face was sweaty, and his eyes were wild with desperation.
"Put the gun down, Richard," I said calmly, keeping my own pistol aimed at Blake.
"Shut up!" Richard screamed, his hands shaking violently.
"You ruined everything, Mercer!"
"The feds froze my accounts, the bank foreclosed on my company, and I am ruined!"
He gestured wildly toward the briefcase in Emma’s hands.
"That deed is the only thing keeping me out of a federal penitentiary."
"Hand it over, Emma."
Emma stood tall beside me, her grip on the leather handle tightening.
"No," she said firmly.
Richard blinked, stunned by her defiance.
"What did you say to me, you little brat?" he snarled.
"I said no," Emma repeated, her voice echoing loudly across the empty runway.
"You used me."
"You humiliated my father."
"You tried to steal my mother's legacy."
"I am not giving you a damn thing."
Blake groaned from the pavement, wiping blood from his mouth.
"Shoot him, Dad!" Blake yelled, pointing at me.
"Shoot Mercer and grab the case!"
Richard's finger tightened on the trigger.
I prepared to dive in front of Emma, knowing the shotgun spread at this range would be fatal.
"Richard, listen to me," I warned him.
"If you pull that trigger, you are trading a white-collar fraud charge for capital murder."
"You will die in prison."
"I'm already dead!" Richard cried hysterically.
He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.
A deafening crack echoed through the night.
But it didn't come from the shotgun.
Richard cried out in agony and dropped his weapon, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
I spun around to see who had fired.
Standing in the shadows of the hangar was Marcus, holding a small backup revolver.
The lawyer's face was pale, his breathing ragged from his fall down the stairs.
"I signed up for embezzlement, Richard," Marcus panted, lowering the smoking gun.
"I didn't sign up for murder."
Before Richard could recover his shotgun, the wail of police sirens pierced the air.
Dozens of flashing red and blue lights poured through the broken security gates.
Helicopters swept over the airfield, pinning everyone in blinding white spotlights.
"FBI! Drop your weapons!" a voice boomed over a megaphone.
Blake scrambled to his feet, looking frantically for an escape route, but there was nowhere to run.
He fell to his knees and placed his hands behind his head, sobbing like a child.
Emma looked up at me, tears of relief finally spilling down her cheeks.
"We did it," she whispered.
I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
May you like
"Yes," I said quietly as the tactical teams rushed forward to arrest the Vales.
"It's finally over."
