Chapter 22 - The Dulles Tarmac
The rain came down in torrential sheets, turning the asphalt of the private aviation strip at Dulles into a mirrored expanse of flashing runway lights and blurred shadows. Huddled beneath the overhang of a maintenance hangar, I adjusted the strap of my tactical harness, checking the magazine feed of my sidearm with practiced, silent efficiency.
Master Sergeant Vance crouched beside me, peering through a pair of thermal binoculars toward Hangar 4, where Sterling’s private jet idled with its twin jet turbines whining at a high, deafening pitch.
“Perimeter security is heavier than anticipated, Captain,” Vance whispered over the encrypted comm-link channel humming in our ears. “Private contractors—former tier-one operators on Sterling’s payroll. They’re carrying suppressed carbines and wearing ballistic vests under their executive suits. This isn't just a corporate flight; it’s an armed extraction.”
“They’re running scared because they know the financial net has tightened,” I replied, keeping my eyes locked on the heavy metal side door of the hangar. “Major Lin, status on the local communications grid?”
From a mobile command van parked half a mile down the perimeter fence, Lin’s voice crackled back instantly, clear and sharp through the static.
“Grid is completely isolated, Captain,” Lin reported. “I’ve looped the local air traffic control radar feeds with a continuous digital ghost loop. To any outside observer, Sterling’s bird is sitting completely dead on the ramp. We have a three-minute window before their onboard encryption algorithms realize the telemetry is synthetic.”
“Three minutes is all we need,” I said, drawing my service weapon. “Vance, take the eastern flank and neutralize the ground guards. I’m going straight for the aircraft door to secure Sterling before he can trigger the emergency server wipe.”
“Moving,” Vance murmured, melting into the driving rain like a ghost.
I broke cover, sprinting across the open tarmac with my boots slamming hard against the slick, rain-soaked concrete. The wind whipped my hair across my face, but my vision remained fixed entirely on the silver hull of the Gulfstream.
As I closed the distance, the side door of Hangar 4 burst open. Two armed contractors spilled out into the downpour, shouting frantic warnings and raising their weapons toward my position.
Before they could acquire their sights, a flurry of suppressed fire cracked from the shadows of the maintenance stacks. Both men staggered and dropped cleanly to the pavement, neutralized by Vance’s precise overwatch.
“Clear to advance, Captain!” Vance’s voice echoed in my ear.
I didn't break stride. I lunged up the portable metal boarding stairs of the Gulfstream, slamming my shoulder against the heavy cabin door and swinging it wide open into the luxuriously appointed interior.
Richard Sterling sat at the mahogany conference table inside the jet, his face completely drained of color, a laptop resting open before him with a progress bar flashing a desperate, frantic red: System Wipe: 84% Complete.
“Captain Lawson,” Sterling gasped, stumbling backward out of his leather seat, his hands trembling as he stared up at my uniform. “You... you have no jurisdiction here. This is a private—this is a civil matter—”
“This is high treason, Sterling,” I said, stepping into the cabin and slamming my hand down onto the physical kill-switch of the laptop, freezing the data wipe at 91%.
I pulled a high-capacity forensic drive from my tactical pouch, slapping it directly into the machine’s master port to siphon the remaining encrypted files straight into Task Force Vanguard’s secure grid.
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Sterling lunged for a heavy glass decanter on the side table, his eyes wild with desperate fury, but before his fingers could close around the heavy crystal, I swept his legs out from under him with a swift, brutal kick, pinning him hard against the plush carpeting of the cabin floor.
“You tried to build an empire on the backs of better people, Sterling,” I whispered, pressing my boot firmly against his chest as the wail of approaching federal police sirens echoed faintly through the rain outside. “And now, your audit has arrived.”
