Chapter 11 - Flight into the Storm
Julian stood frozen on the ramp for a split second, his heart tearing in two. But the sound of baby Leo wailing inside the pressurized cabin broke the trance. Gritting his teeth, Julian pulled up the boarding ladder and slammed the aircraft's heavy door shut, locking it in place.
""Take off! Go!"" Julian yelled into the cockpit.
The pilot slammed the throttles forward. The twin turboprops roared at full capacity, hurtling the plane down the cracked, rain-soaked asphalt of the forgotten runway. Bullets pinged against the fuselage like angry hail. Through the small oval window, Julian watched Arthur and Frank fighting side-by-side behind sandbags, disappearing into flashes of gunfire and smoke.
With a shudder that rattled every rivet in the frame, the landing gear lifted clear of the tree line. The ground dropped away into black void.
Elena threw her arms around Julian’s neck, burying her face in his chest. Julian wrapped his arms around her and their son, staring out into the tempestuous clouds. His suit was torn, his hands were covered in soot, and his father was almost certainly dead.
Ten minutes into the flight, the pilot switched on the intercom. ""Julian? You need to come up to the cockpit right now.""
Julian walked forward, steadying himself against the turbulence. ""What is it? Are we being intercepted?""
""Look at the transponder board,"" the pilot said, pointing a trembling finger at the glowing radar console. ""Someone just uploaded an encrypted broadcast to our flight computer from a private terminal on the ground.""
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The cockpit screen illuminated with a live video feed. It wasn't Arthur.
Sitting in a dimly lit, lavish leather armchair was Hector Calderon, swirling a glass of dark scotch, smiling directly into the camera.
