Chapter 14 - The Scales of Justice
Sterling began to sob, his knees buckling under him. "Please, Mark... don't drop me... please..."
Mark stared into the broken, terrified face of the man who had tried to destroy his world. It would be so easy. A slight push, a quick release of his grip, and Donald Sterling would vanish into the black, churning waters of the Platte River two hundred feet below. Nobody would question it. The police report would write itself: Suspect resisted arrest, fell from heights during tactical breach. Sarah’s memory would be avenged, and the threat would be silenced forever.
Mark’s fingers tightened on the cashmere fabric. His knuckles turned white.
Then, through the howling wind, he remembered the sound of Leo’s soft, even breathing in the nursery of Blackwood Manor. He remembered Eleanor’s words: You are not a criminal begging for mercy. You are a father. If he dropped Sterling over that railing, he would be no different from the vultures who had hunted them. He would be returning to his son as a killer.
Mark shoved Sterling violently backward, not over the rail, but onto the iron decking of the catwalk. Sterling landed hard on his hands and knees, gasping for breath, clutching the steel mesh.
"You're not dying tonight, Sterling," Mark said, his voice ringing with cold contempt. "Dying is too easy. You're going to spend the next thirty years inside a concrete cell, watching Sarah’s boy grow up on your stolen fortune."
Footsteps pounded up the iron stairs behind them. A team of State Police tactical officers burst onto the catwalk, weapons raised, followed closely by Thomas, who was limping slightly but grinning through his tears.
"Drop to your knees and place your hands on your head!" the lead tactical commander barked at Sterling.
Sterling offered no resistance. He collapsed face-down onto the cold iron decking, weeping hysterically as the officers zip-tied his wrists behind his back and read him his constitutional rights.
Thomas stepped up beside Mark, placing a heavy, bandage-wrapped hand on his shoulder. "Clara is in the ambulance. She has some cracked ribs, but the doctors say she's going to be fine. She's going to make a full recovery, Mark."
"I'm glad, Thomas," Mark said quietly, looking out over the dark horizon where the first faint glimmer of pre-dawn light was beginning to touch the Nebraska plains. "I'm really glad."
May you like
"Eleanor is waiting at the base of the elevator," Thomas said, his voice thick with emotion. "She brought someone with her."
Mark didn't say another word. He turned and descended the long, winding iron stairs, leaving the wreckage of Donald Sterling’s empire behind him in the cold morning wind.
