Chapter 9 - Edge of the Abyss
Eleanor swung the heavy metal briefcase with desperate, vicious fury. The corner caught Marcus along his jawline, slicing his skin and sending him teetering backward on the helicopter’s narrow skid. Ten feet below, the cracked runway raced past in a blur of wet asphalt and flashing floodlights.
Marcus clung to the door frame with his bleeding left hand, the physical agony blinding his vision for a split second. But the image of Clara lying pale and suffocating in that basement safe room burned into his mind with scorching clarity.
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As Eleanor raised the case to strike again, Marcus drove his right fist forward, punching the center of the briefcase. The shockwave jarred Eleanor’s wrists, forcing her backward into the plush leather seating of the cabin. Marcus hauled himself inside the vibrating compartment, kicking the heavy sliding door shut behind him to block the roaring wind.
Up front, the pilot glanced nervously into his rearview mirror, seeing"
