Chapter 7 - THE FLIGHT RECORDER
Drake had escaped confinement through a service tunnel built beneath the old headquarters. His disappearance confirmed guilt, but not the shape of it. Vale declared a base-wide emergency and ordered all information routed through his office.
Emma no longer trusted the order.
A message appeared on Blake’s secondary phone: WANT THE RECORDER? COME ALONE TO HANGAR SIX.
Park called it an obvious trap. Emma agreed. Then she created a better one.
She went to Hangar Six wearing a transmitter sewn into her collar. Ruiz, Park, and Grant positioned teams beyond the perimeter. The hangar doors stood open to darkness. Inside, an old transport helicopter sat under maintenance lights.
Drake emerged from behind the aircraft. Without his dress uniform, he looked smaller, exhausted, and frightened.
“You destroyed everything,” he said.
“You poured soda on me.”
“That was supposed to make you angry. I needed you to strike me, threaten me, anything that would justify removing you before the convoy left.”
“You kidnapped Bell.”
“Pike did.”
“You ordered Wade killed.”
Drake shook his head. “Vale ordered it. I followed him because I thought the money was protected and the cargo went to allies. Then I learned about your father.”
He opened a tool case. Inside lay a damaged flight-data recorder.
“Your father’s helicopter was carrying proof,” Drake said. “Vale ordered a maintenance chief to alter the fuel-control system. The crash report was rewritten.”
Emma’s throat tightened, but she forced herself to remain still. “Why keep the recorder?”
“Insurance.”
“Then testify.”
Drake laughed bitterly. “Against a general? I watched him turn you into a thief in less than a day.”
A gunshot shattered a work light. Drake fell behind the helicopter. Emma dove beside a wheel assembly. Shots came from the catwalk.
Pike.
Grant’s team entered from the rear. Ruiz climbed the side stairs while Park pulled Emma toward cover. Pike fired again, striking the tool case. The flight recorder skidded across the floor.
Drake crawled toward it. Pike aimed.
Emma ran into the open and kicked the recorder beneath the helicopter just as Pike fired. The bullet struck Drake’s shoulder instead of his chest.
Ruiz tackled Pike on the catwalk. Both men crashed into the railing. Pike reached for a knife; Ruiz drove him to the floor.
Then the hangar doors began closing.
General Vale stood at the control panel outside.
Grant shouted for him to stop. Vale raised a pistol and fired at the electrical box. Sparks erupted. The doors jammed halfway, trapping the response vehicles outside.
Emma grabbed the flight recorder. Vale saw it and aimed through the narrowing gap.
Drake, bleeding heavily, pushed Emma down. The shot struck him in the side.
Grant returned fire, forcing Vale behind a vehicle. Vale escaped into the darkness.
Medics reached Drake. He looked at Emma and struggled to breathe.
“I was cruel because fear was useful,” he said. “I told myself I wasn’t the worst man in the room.”
Emma held pressure against his wound. “Save the confession for court.”
His eyes closed.
The flight recorder was badly damaged, but its protective memory core remained intact.
At sunrise, technicians recovered eleven seconds of cockpit audio from her father’s final flight.
James Carter’s voice said, “General Vale ordered the diversion. If we land, I’m taking this straight to investigators.”
May you like
Another voice answered from behind him.
“Then you won’t land.”
