Chapter 9 - The Tiger Unleashed
Before Vance or his mercenaries could react, a flashbang grenade plummeted from the catwalks, detonating in a blinding white flash and a concussive shockwave that shattered every overhead light in the hangar.
Bang! Flash! Deafening roar!
"Contact! Sector one!" a mercenary screamed, stumbling blindly as the strobe effect scrambled his vision.
Marcus Vance dropped his glass of scotch, stumbling backward as glass shattered across the floor. "What is this?! Kill them! Kill them both!"
From the shadows dropped Marcus, Daniel’s head of security, leading a full tactical assault team equipped with night-vision gear and heavy suppression shields. They didn't hesitate. Within seconds, Vance’s mercenaries were disarmed, zip-tied, and slammed face-first onto the concrete floor.
Emily broke free from the stunned guard's loosening grip, scrambling desperately across the floor until she reached the industrial crane controls. She slammed her small hand down on the emergency descent lever.
With a grinding groan of gears, the crane lowered, dropping Daniel safely onto his feet. He caught his balance, rubbed his raw wrists, and charged forward like an enraged predator.
Vance scrambled on the floor, frantically reaching for his dropped pistol. Before his fingers could graze the grip, a heavy, blood-stained boot came down hard on his hand, crushing it against the concrete.
Vance shrieked in agony, looking up to find Daniel towering over him, his face a mask of cold, unmitigated fury.
"You..." Vance gasped, clutching his broken hand. "You're ruined... the board... the feds..."
Daniel reached down, grabbing Vance by the collar of his ruined designer suit and hauling him up to eye level with one hand.
"The board received my dead-man switch, Marcus," Daniel whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Not with my resignation... but with the complete, unedited audio recording of your confession, backed up by federal prosecutors who are raiding your offshore accounts as we speak."
Daniel threw Vance back down onto the floor like a piece of garbage. Vance slumped against a concrete pillar, broken, defeated, and utterly ruined.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second as federal marshals and police cruisers flooded the airfield, their red and blue lights painting the hangar in flashing washes of color.
Daniel didn't look at Vance as the federal agents swarmed in to cuff the corporate traitor. Instead, he turned around, dropping heavily to his knees in front of Emily.
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He looked at the little girl—soaked, bruised, trembling, yet standing tall. Without a word, the billionaire pulled her into his arms, burying his face against her damp shoulder, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the entire world.
And for Daniel Harrison, right at that moment, she was.
