Chapter 9 - The Hangar Fight
The hidden garage was massive, housing my collection of luxury cars and my private evacuation helicopter.
The explosion had collapsed the tunnel behind us, buying us a precious few minutes of silence.
"Get into the chopper," I ordered Emily, running toward the sleek black aircraft.
But as I reached the pilot's door, a massive figure stepped out from behind the tail rotor.
It was the lead paramedic.
He had removed his medical jacket, revealing a heavy tactical vest and a suppressed pistol.
"You really made this difficult, Mister Carter," the fake medic sneered, raising his weapon.
I did not wait for him to pull the trigger.
I lunged forward, tackling the massive man directly into the side of the helicopter.
He fired a wild shot that grazed my ribs, sending a burning streak of agony across my torso.
I ignored the pain, driving my fist brutally into his jaw.
He was stronger than me, trained for close-quarters combat, and he quickly reversed our positions, pinning me against the cold concrete floor.
He wrapped his massive hands around my throat, squeezing the life out of me with terrifying force.
My vision began to blur into dark, fuzzy edges as I struggled desperately to break his grip.
Suddenly, a bright red fire extinguisher crashed down onto the back of the medic's skull with a sickening crunch.
The man's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the floor in a heavy, lifeless heap.
Emily stood over him, dropping the dented fire extinguisher with trembling hands.
"Are you okay?" she gasped, helping me to my feet.
"I will live," I coughed, clutching my bleeding side.
I looked frantically into the cockpit of the helicopter, realizing the terrible truth.
"My pilot is dead, he isn't here," I panicked.
"The cars are rigged with explosives, they always wire the garage first during a siege."
We were completely trapped.
Emily climbed into the pilot's seat and began flipping the overhead ignition switches with practiced precision.
The massive rotors slowly began to spin, whining loudly as the engine caught fire.
"I spent three years flying supply drops for the cartel before they killed my father," Emily yelled over the roaring engine.
"Get in!"
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I strapped Noah securely into the back seat and buckled myself in just as the garage doors began to open.
Emily pulled the collective lever, and we launched violently into the dark, stormy sky, leaving my burning empire far behind.
