Chapter 6 - THE HUNT AT RUNWAY 4The roar of the twin-turbine engines shook the tinted glass of the military SUV as we tore down the highway toward Silver City Private Airfield.
Outside, the sky was dark with storm clouds. High above us, the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of two military attack helicopters cut through the clouds, their searchlights slicing through the morning mist.
At the airfield, a light twin-engine Cessna was taxiing down Runway 4, its engines revving wildly as it prepared for takeoff. Richard Cross was in the cockpit beside a hired pilot, frantically screaming at him to take off.
"I don't care about the tower control!" Richard screamed, pointing a gun at the pilot's head. "Lift off now! Lift off or I shoot you!"
"Sir, there’s a military lockdown! The airspace is closed!" the pilot panicked.
"DO IT!"
The plane accelerated down the tarmac.
Suddenly, three heavy military Humvees smashed through the perimeter chain-link fence, tires screeching as they swerved onto the runway directly in front of the accelerating airplane.
The plane’s pilot slammed on the brakes, sending the aircraft skidding violently across the asphalt, rubber burning, smoke billowing into the air until the nose of the plane stopped just ten feet short of a military vehicle.
Before the propellers had even stopped spinning, military police kicked open the aircraft’s doors.
"STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE! HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!"
Richard Cross tumbled out of the side door, holding a briefcase crammed with stolen bearer bonds and foreign currency. He scrambled across the tarmac, screaming in terror.
"Help! I’m a civilian! You can't do this!"
A heavy combat boot slammed down on Richard’s hand, pinning him to the ground.
My father stepped out of the lead Humvee. He walked slowly across the tarmac, the heavy rain starting to pour, soaking his clothes.
Richard looked up through the rain, seeing my father standing over him like an avenging angel.
"James... James, please!" Richard wept, his face pressed into the wet asphalt. "It wasn't me! It was the chemical company! They told me it was safe! I didn't mean to hurt Sarah! Please, James, we were friends!"
"You killed my wife," my father said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "You let her suffer for two years. You watched me cry at her grave, and then you offered me thirty dollars an hour to mow your lawn."
"I'll give you everything!" Richard offered hysterically, pushing the briefcase forward. "Ten million dollars! The land! Everything! Just let me go!"
My father looked at the briefcase. Then he looked at Commander Vance, who was standing nearby with federal agents.
"Take him away," my father said softly. "Let the law give him what he deserves. Death in a cage."
As federal agents dragged Richard Cross away in chains, screaming and weeping into the storm, my father stood in the pouring rain, looking up at the sky. He closed his eyes, letting the cold water wash over his face.
May you like
"Sarah..." he whispered to the wind. "It's over. You can rest now."
I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. We stood together in the rain on that cold runway, leaning on each other, as fifteen years of poison, pain, and deceit were finally washed away.
