Chapter 8 - The Showdown at the Airfield
We watched in stunned silence as Marcus collapsed onto the tarmac, completely betrayed by the man he had sold us out for.
Victor casually holstered his weapon and signaled his remaining guards to board the sleek private jet.
"He thinks he has the key, he's heading straight for the vault in Manhattan," Bellamy deduced, his jaw clenched in cold fury.
"We have to stop that plane from taking off," Vivienne stated, throwing the truck into gear.
She didn't wait for a plan; she slammed her foot on the gas and smashed the heavy pickup truck directly through the chained gates.
The loud crash alerted Victor's men, who immediately turned and raised their automatic weapons.
Vivienne expertly swerved the truck across the tarmac, dodging a hail of gunfire that shattered our windshield.
"Get down!" Bellamy yelled, pushing my head below the dashboard as he returned fire out the passenger window.
Vivienne slammed the brakes, drifting the truck sideways to use the heavy engine block as a shield against the bullets.
"I need to get to Victor before he boards that plane!" Bellamy shouted over the deafening noise.
"I'll cover you!" Vivienne yelled back, laying down precise, suppressive fire with a tactical rifle she pulled from the backseat.
Bellamy sprinted across the open tarmac, dodging between parked fuel trucks with terrifying agility.
I watched, paralyzed with fear, as he closed the distance between himself and his murderous uncle.
Victor saw Bellamy coming and panicked, abandoning his men and rushing up the stairs of the private jet.
Bellamy tackled a guard at the bottom of the stairs, disarming him and leaping up the steps just as the cabin door began to close.
He jammed his foot into the door mechanism, forcing it open, and disappeared inside the aircraft.
The remaining guards on the tarmac, realizing their boss was trapped, began to focus entirely on our position behind the truck.
Bullets tore through the metal of the pickup, and Vivienne winced as a round grazed her shoulder.
"We can't hold them off much longer, Clare!" Vivienne shouted, reloading her rifle.
I noticed a massive, highly flammable aviation fuel tanker parked just twenty yards behind the guards' position.
I grabbed the pistol Bellamy had left on the seat and aimed it with shaking hands.
I had never fired a gun in my life, but I knew I had to do something to save us.
I closed my eyes, pulled the trigger, and prayed.
The bullet missed the guards entirely, but struck the rusted release valve of the fuel tanker.
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High-octane aviation fuel poured rapidly onto the tarmac, flooding the area around the guards' feet.
Vivienne saw the opportunity, smiled fiercely, and fired a single, sparking tracer round directly into the massive puddle of fuel.
