Chapter 8 - The Cartel Connection
The interior of the private jet went completely, terrifyingly silent.
Grace stared at Ethan, trying to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the nightmare he had just unleashed.
"You borrowed startup money from a cartel shell company?" Julian asked, his usual calm demeanor finally fracturing.
Ethan spat a mouthful of blood onto the plush carpet of the airplane.
"They needed clean businesses to wash their cash, and I needed capital to build Walker Development," Ethan confessed proudly.
"But I used Grace's name and social security number as the primary corporate guarantor on all the cartel loans."
Grace touched her stomach, feeling a wave of absolute nausea wash over her.
By stopping Ethan from fleeing the country with the stolen cash, she had essentially just stolen fifty million dollars directly from a ruthless cartel.
Lauren suddenly unbuckled her seatbelt and made a desperate, frantic dash toward the rear emergency exit of the plane.
Before she could even touch the handle, the deafening roar of a military-grade helicopter drowned out every sound in the cabin.
Blinding searchlights flooded through the small oval windows of the jet.
The helicopter touched down violently on the runway directly beside the plane, the massive rotors whipping the rain into a frenzy.
The main door of the helicopter slid open, revealing a dozen heavily armed men wearing dark tactical gear and cartel tattoos.
They poured out onto the tarmac, instantly surrounding the private jet with assault rifles raised and laser sights activated.
Ethan dropped to his knees on the floor of the cabin, weeping uncontrollably in absolute terror.
"They are going to skin us all alive," Ethan sobbed, burying his face in his hands.
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The lead cartel soldier aimed a heavy rifle directly through the open door of the jet.
The bright red laser dot settled perfectly on the center of Grace's pregnant stomach.
