Chapter 16 - The Runway—The Antidote
I threw Leo onto my back, telling him to hold on tight, and carried Ellie in my arms as I bolted out the French doors of the library into the pouring rain.
The runway was illuminated by harsh halogen lights.
The Gulfstream jet was taxiing, its engines whining with deafening force. Eleanor’s mercenaries were loading the final server cases onto the cargo ramp.
Julian was sprinting across the tarmac, firing his rifle wildly at the guards, trying to stop the plane from taking off with his precious intelligence network.
I ran toward the boarding stairs, my lungs burning, the weight of my dying daughter and my terrified son pushing me to the absolute edge of human endurance.
A mercenary turned and aimed at me.
Before he could fire, Julian shot him in the back. Julian wasn't trying to save me; he was just clearing his path to the servers.
“The antidote is in the cabin!” Julian yelled over the roar of the jet engines as we both reached the stairs.
I scrambled up the aluminum steps, kicking the cabin door open.
Inside the luxurious jet, Eleanor was sitting calmly in a leather captain’s chair, strapping herself in. She held a small metal briefcase in her lap.
“You’re too late, Mara,” Eleanor smiled, holding up a small glass vial containing a glowing blue liquid. “The antidote.”
Julian burst into the cabin behind me, his rifle aimed at Eleanor’s head.
“Give me the servers, Mother, or I paint this cabin with your brains,” Julian roared.
Eleanor didn't flinch. She simply dropped the glass vial onto the carpeted floor and raised her heel above it.
“Shoot me, Julian,” Eleanor said. “My foot drops. The vial shatters. Your little niece dies.”
Julian froze. He didn't care about Ellie, but he knew I did.
“Shoot her, Julian, and I’ll blow the C4 detonator myself and burn your servers to ash!” I screamed at him, stepping between his rifle and my mother.
Eleanor smiled at the standoff. “Checkmate. The plane takes off. I take the children and the servers. You two get off, or we all crash.”
“I’m not leaving my daughter!” I cried, falling to my knees, reaching desperately for the vial beneath her heel.
Suddenly, a loud, metallic clanking echoed from the cockpit.
The jet engines sputtered, whined violently, and then completely died. The cabin plunged into darkness, lit only by the emergency floor lights.
The cockpit door kicked open.
Standing there, holding a bloody wrench and covered in grease, was Aris Thorne.
“I cut the fuel lines,” Aris panted, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “This plane isn't going anywhere.”
Eleanor’s face contorted in absolute fury. In her moment of distraction, her heel lifted a fraction of an inch off the carpet.
I lunged forward like a feral animal.
I slammed my fist into Eleanor’s knee, knocking her leg away, and snatched the glass vial from the floor.
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