Chapter 6 - Breaching the TarmacThe icy rain stung my face like a thousand tiny needles, soaking through my thin hospital gown and sticking the fabric to my skin. I didn't care. The burning fire in my chest eclipsed all physical pain.
“Freeze! Federal agents! Turn off the engines!” Marshal Vance’s amplified voice boomed across the airstrip through a loudhailer as federal SUVs smashed through the chain-link security gate, showering sparks into the night air.
The Gulfstream jet, which had already begun to accelerate down the runway, suddenly slammed on its brakes. Smoke billowed from the landing gear tires as the pilot fought to keep the massive aircraft from veering off the wet asphalt.
I sprinted across the open tarmac, my bare feet splashing through puddles, ignoring the sharp rocks cutting into my soles.
“Maya! Get back!” Marshal Vance shouted, speeding past me in his SUV before cutting hard across the front of the jet’s nose cone, blocking its path.
The SUV doors flew open. Four armed federal agents poured out, weapons drawn, lasers painting the gleaming hull of the private jet.
“Open the cabin door! Put your hands where we can see them!” Marshal Vance commanded, leveling his weapon at the aircraft’s main entry hatch.
For a tense, agonizing ten seconds, nothing happened. The jet engines whined down to a low, dying hum.
Then, the hydraulic hiss of the cabin door echoed across the tarmac. The metal stairs folded down, and a figure emerged into the floodlights.
It wasn't Veronica.
It was a tall, sharp-featured man in an expensive Italian suit, holding a silver briefcase in one hand... and cradling a tiny blue-wrapped bundle against his shoulder with the other.
“Federal Law Enforcement! Drop the child and put your hands on your head!” Marshal Vance roared.
The man in the suit didn't look panicked. In fact, a cold, arrogant smirk played across his lips. He raised his free hand slowly, shielding his eyes from the blinding glare of the police spotlights.
“Agent Vance, I presume?” the man called out smoothly over the wind. “You’re wasting your time. My client has diplomatic immunity, and this child was legally acquired through a binding international pre-birth custody assignment.”
“You’re holding a stolen newborn child who was illegally removed from St. Mary’s Medical Center three hours ago!” I screamed, pushing past the federal agents until I stood at the front line, trembling from head to toe. “Hand over my daughter, you sick monster!”
The man in the suit looked down at me, his eyes cold and clinical. He shifted the baby in his arms, and for a terrifying second, the blue blanket slipped slightly, revealing a tiny hand curled into a fist.
My heart stopped.
“Your daughter?” the man chuckled darkly. “Oh, Mrs. Miller. You really have no idea what your husband signed you up for, do you?”
Before I could process his words, a second vehicle came screaming onto the tarmac from the opposite direction—a civilian sedan fishtailing wildly before slamming to a halt right behind the federal SUVs.
May you like
The driver’s door flew open, and Ethan tumbled out onto the wet asphalt, panting heavily, soaked to the bone, staring up at the jet with wide, panicked eyes.
“Maya!” Ethan screamed, staggering toward me through the rain. “Maya, listen to me! I can explain everything!”
