Chapter 8 - Showdown at Teterboro Airfield
The private airstrip at Teterboro was slick with heavy rain and wind. A twin-engine Gulfstream jet idled on the tarmac, its turbine engines screaming against the gale, ready for immediate takeoff.
Inside the private hangar, Victor Vance stood beside his luggage, checking his watch impatiently, waiting for Thomas to confirm the hit at the Hamptons estate.
Instead, the screech of tires echoed through the cavernous hangar.
Three armored SUVs smashed through the chain-link security gates, sliding across the wet concrete before screeching to a halt in a tight semicircle around the jet.
Doors flew open. Rory Starks stepped out into the pouring rain, his dark trench coat billowing behind him, followed closely by Veronica and a squad of heavily armed security operatives.
Vance froze, his face draining of all color. He reached instinctively for the golden-plated revolver resting inside his shoulder holster.
"Don't even think about it, Victor," Rory’s voice echoed coldly across the tarmac.
"Rory!" Vance forced a nervous, shaking smile, holding his hands up defensively. "My friend! What is all this? There's been a terrible misunderstanding—"
"Save it for the coroner," Rory interrupted, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate strides.
Vance suddenly lunged sideways, pulling the revolver from his holster and aiming it straight at Rory's chest. "Stay back or I swear to God I'll—"
Bang.
The shot didn't come from Rory's gun.
A single, crisp crack echoed through the rain. Vance’s pistol flew out of his hand, spinning across the concrete as a bullet pierced clean through his wrist.
Vance screamed, clutching his bloody hand and dropping to his knees.
Rory turned his head slightly.
Standing ten paces back, holding a silenced tactical rifle with professional ease, Veronica lowered the barrel, letting the smoke curl away into the rain.
Rory raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"County hospital emergency ward parking lot," Veronica replied calmly, lowering the rifle. "Bad neighborhood. You pick up a few hobbies."
Rory walked up to the screaming, bleeding accountant, grabbed him by the hair, and yanked him up to eye level.
"The encryption keys for the ledger, Victor," Rory whispered, his voice like grinding ice. "Now."
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Sobbing in pain, Vance fumbled with his bleeding hand, pulling a small cryptographic flash drive from his breast pocket and dropping it into Rory's palm.
Rory caught it, tossed it to Veronica, and then knocked Vance unconscious with a single, brutal right hook.
