Chapter 9 - Blood on the De-Icing Pad
The G-Wagon ground to a halt fifty yards from the Gulfstream, sliding sideways in a spray of chemical de-icing slush. Julian threw open his door before the vehicle had even completely stopped, cold air hitting him like a physical blow. The whining roar of the jet's twin Rolls-Royce engines drowned out the whistle of the wind, blowing exhaust fumes and snow crystals across the tarmac.
Standing atop the airstair was undeniably Arthur Vance. Older, leaner, his hair completely silver, but carrying the same arrogant, razor-sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that had terrorized Julian’s childhood dinners. At Arthur’s feet, bound to an aluminum transport gurney and wrapped in emergency thermal blankets, was a young man with a shaved head and an IV drip running into his arm. Lucas. He was alive, his pale chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged rhythms.
""Julian,"" Arthur’s voice echoed across the tarmac, amplified through a megaphone held by one of the armed guards flanking the ramp. ""You always were a remarkably predictable boy. Punctual, conscientious, entirely sentimental. You couldn't even leave the mountain without chasing after your little bird.""
Miller exited the Mercedes, weapon raised, using the engine block for cover. ""Arthur Vance! Step away from the ramp! Swiss federal police are already en route to this coordinate!""
Arthur laughed, a hollow, dry bark that cut through the engine noise. ""The cantonal police won't arrive for twelve minutes, Commander Miller. And by then, this aircraft will be cruising through Italian airspace. Bring the boy forward, Julian! Bring me the decryption sequence from the silver pouch, and I might let Lucas keep breathing long enough to see his thirty-first birthday.""
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Julian took a step forward, his hands empty, held out to his sides. ""You used us. You ruined his life, you turned him into a hard drive, and you kept me in a cage for three years!""
""I preserved you!"" Arthur bellowed, his face darkening with sudden, unhinged rage. ""The world was coming apart, Julian! The banks, the regulatory boards—they wanted everything I built! I secured my legacy where no government audit could ever seize it: inside the marrow of my own bloodline!"" Arthur raised his thumb over the detonator switch. ""The pouch, Julian. Give it to my guard, or I detonate the fuel bladders right here on the tarmac. We all burn together.""
