Chapter 5 - The Terminal Boarding Call
The rain had turned into a steady, gray sheet by the time Calloway’s town car tore through the security gates of the private municipal airstrip, the tires hissing against the slick tarmac. In the backseat, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Nora stared out the window at the distant hangars, the red and white navigation lights blinking lazily through the fog. She clutched the manila folder against her chest like a shield. The realization of what was happening hadn't fully set in until they crossed the perimeter: Margaret Vance hadn’t just been a traitor inside Calloway’s syndicate; she had been the bridge between the old guard that destroyed her family and the new corporate empire Elena was building.
“If Elena is still on the tarmac, her private bird hasn’t cleared customs yet,” Calloway said, checking the slide of a matte-black firearm with practiced, fluid ease before tucking it into his holster. He looked over at Nora, his expression severe. “Stay in the car. This isn't a diner anymore.”
“I’m not staying in the car, Dominic,” Nora replied, her voice leaving no room for argument. She reached for the door handle before he could stop her. “That’s my father’s name they’re using to launder your accounts. That’s my history they’re treating like a corporate write-off. You might run the underworld, but this is personal to me.”
Before Calloway could protest, Nora pushed the door open and stepped out into the cold, driving rain. The wind whipped her hair across her face, chilling her bandaged arm instantly, but she didn’t hesitate. She slammed the door shut and matched Calloway’s long, determined strides as they moved toward the largest hangar at the end of the strip.
Two of Calloway’s guards flanked them closely, their coats billowing in the gale. As they rounded the corner of the corrugated steel building, a sleek, twin-engine private jet sat on the tarmac with its boarding stairs lowered, turbine engines whining as they spooled up for takeoff.
Standing at the base of the stairs, holding a sleek silver briefcase, was Margaret Vance. Beside her stood Elena Cole, her tailored blazer perfectly dry under a black umbrella held by an assistant.
“Well,” Elena called out over the roar of the engines, a triumphant smile cutting across her face as she saw Calloway and Nora approach. “Look who decided to join the departure lounge. I’m afraid you missed check-in, Dominic. And Nora, darling, you really should have stayed at the diner. The view is much better from up here.”
Margaret Vance didn't look at Nora. She kept her eyes fixed on the briefcase in her hand, stepping quickly toward the open cabin door.
“Stop right there, Margaret,” Calloway commanded, his voice carrying effortlessly over the jet wash as he drew his hand from his coat. The two guards raised their weapons with military precision.
Elena didn't flinch. Instead, she slowly lowered her umbrella, letting the rain soak her blonde hair as she stepped onto the bottom step of the boarding stairs. She pulled a small, encrypted tablet from her coat and tapped the screen once.
“You can shoot us, Dominic, or you can watch the entire remaining capital of your maritime empire dissolve into three dozen overseas accounts before this plane hits cruising altitude,” Elena said smoothly. She turned her gaze directly to Nora, her eyes gleaming with a malicious satisfaction. “And as for your father’s legacy, little waitress? Margaret didn't just forge those signatures ten years ago. She has the original audio recording of your father voluntarily signing over his company trademark in exchange for a one-way ticket out of town. He didn't die in a fire because of a debt, Nora. He walked away because he sold you out first.”
Nora stopped dead in her tracks. The wind seemed to vanish from the tarmac, leaving a vacuum of pure, freezing silence in her ears.
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Margaret paused on the top step of the stairs, turning back to look down at Nora with a cold, expressionless stare. She reached into her pocket, pulled out an old, scratched microcassette tape, and tossed it down onto the wet tarmac right at Nora’s feet.
Then, she turned and stepped inside the cabin. The heavy hatch door began to seal shut with a heavy mechanical hiss.
