Chapter 9 - Crossfire on the Tarmac
The hangar instantly transformed into a war zone. The two guards spun around toward the blinding lights of the incoming police cruisers, raising their submachine guns just as a barrage of non-lethal flashbangs arc-flown through the broken doorway, detonating with blinding white-hot flashes and deafening concussive roars.
“Down!” I yelled, dropping flat onto the concrete floor and shielding the satellite terminal with my body as the air filled with the sharp crack of return fire.
Cross cursed violently, diving behind the landing gear of the executive jet while the two guards scrambled to find cover against the corrugated walls. Glass rained down from the ceiling as stray rounds ricocheted off the steel girders high above us.
Through the roaring smoke and flashing lights, I saw Cross scramble up the retractable boarding stairs of the jet, pulling the heavy cabin door shut behind him with a violent slam. The twin turbofan engines of the aircraft began to whine, spooling up with a deafening, high-pitched shriek that vibrated straight through the soles of my boots.
“He’s trying to taxi!” I shouted into the open air, scrambling back to my feet as Detective Miller sprinted into the hangar alongside four tactical officers with shields raised.
“Get those mobile barriers across the runway!” Miller ordered over his tactical radio, his face blackened with soot and gunsmoke. “Do not let that plane clear the perimeter!”
The executive jet began to roll forward, its powerful jet wash kicking up loose gravel and debris as it turned aggressively toward the open taxiway. The nose gear pivoted, aiming directly for the perimeter security fence.
I didn't think. I sprinted toward an idling tactical utility vehicle parked near the entrance, hopped into the driver's seat, and slammed my foot down hard on the accelerator before Miller could even register what I was doing.
The heavy truck surged forward, its tires tearing across the wet asphalt as I cut across the grass to intercept the accelerating jet before it could reach the main runway.
The jet’s wingtip missed my passenger door by less than ten feet as I whipped the utility vehicle directly across the tarmac, positioning it like a roadblock right in the center of the taxiway.
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The pilot of the jet slammed on the emergency wheel brakes, screaming rubber echoing loudly over the engines as the massive aircraft skidded violently to a halt, its nosecone coming within yards of crushing the driver’s side window of my truck.
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