Chapter 5 - Fire on the Helipad
The damaged helicopter spun in a wild, sickening circle over the estate roof.
The roar of the failing engine screamed like a dying animal as the tail rotor completely seized up. The pilot slammed the collective down, forcing the heavy luxury aircraft into an emergency landing. The landing skids struck the concrete with a bone-jarring crash, sparking violently and snapping in half before the helicopter slid fifty feet across the rain-slick roof, smashing sideways into the steel safety barrier.
The main rotor blades sheared off against the concrete parapet, sending massive shards of carbon fiber whipping through the air like giant shrapnel blades.
Davis dove behind a reinforced HVAC unit to avoid getting decapitated.
Nico moved forward through the rain, his gun leveled, stepping over twisted pieces of metal and smoking engine debris.
The helicopter cabin door was kicked open from the inside. The pilot scrambled out, clutching a broken arm, and fled toward the fire stairs without looking back.
Inside the wrecked cabin, Marcella was coughing violently against the deploying airbags. Her designer dress was shredded, her forehead bleeding from a deep gash where she had slammed against the window frame. In her lap, she clutched a heavy aluminum briefcase containing bearer bonds, hard drives, and offshore account ledgers.
Nico reached into the shattered cabin, grabbed Marcella by the collar of her jacket, and dragged her out into the pouring rain.
She hit the wet concrete, sobbing, gasping for air as she clutched the aluminum case to her chest.
"Nico! Please!" she screamed over the howling storm, looking up at him with wild, terrified eyes. "You don't know the whole story! Dad was going to ruin us! He was liquidating the Vance Foundation! He was going to leave everything to Vivia's mother! We would have had nothing!"
Nico stood over her, the rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead, his expression colder than ice. "Dad gave you forty percent of the company when you turned twenty-five, Marcella. You didn't kill him because you were going to starve. You killed him because you couldn't stand sharing power with anyone."
"He was weak!" Marcella spat, her face twisting with venomous hatred as she tried to crawl backward toward the edge of the roof. "He built an empire and wanted to give it away to charity! I made this family billions!"
"You made yourself a murderer," Nico said.
Behind him, a metallic click broke through the sound of the rain.
Nico spun around.
Davis was standing ten paces away, his face covered in blood, holding a heavy tactical shotgun aimed dead-center at Nico's chest.
"Put the gun down, Mr. Vance," Davis rasped, his eyes burning with malice. "You cost me a ten-million-dollar payout tonight. Back away from the briefcase, or I paint this entire roof with your brains."
Nico didn't lower his weapon. "You pull that trigger, Davis, and you won't live to spend a single dollar. The local SWAT team just breached the front gates."
Down below, the wail of dozens of police sirens tore through the night sky, their flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the low storm clouds.
Davis didn't care. "They're five minutes away from the roof. That's four minutes more than I need. Drop the gun!"
Marcella scrambled to her feet behind Nico, her voice shrieking with manic desperation. "Shoot him, Davis! Shoot him and grab the briefcase! Kill him now!"
Davis tightened his finger on the trigger.
Before he could fire, the heavy roof access door blew open with an explosive bang.
A high-powered hunting rifle cracked from the doorway.
A single bullet tore through Davis's right shoulder, spinning him completely around. The shotgun flew from his grip, clattering across the wet roof before sliding over the ledge into the darkness below.
Davis hit the ground, screaming in agony as he clutched his shattered shoulder.
Standing in the rain-swept doorway was Rafe, holding their father's antique Winchester rifle, the barrel smoking in the cold night air.
Beside him stood Vivia, flanked by six armed officers from the State Police Tactical Unit, their weapons raised and tactical lights flooding the entire helipad in blinding white light.
"State Police! Nobody move! Hands in the air!" the squad commander shouted over a megaphone.
Marcella stared in horror at the armed officers swarming the roof. The reality of her defeat crashed down on her like a tidal wave. She dropped the aluminum briefcase, her knees buckling beneath her as she collapsed onto the wet concrete, weeping uncontrollably.
Nico lowered his gun, letting out a long, slow breath as the police surrounded them.
He walked over to Rafe, clapping a hand firmly on his brother's shoulder. "Good shot."
Rafe gave a grim nod, lowering the rifle. "Dad taught me well."
Vivia ran forward, throwing her arms around Nico’s neck, burying her face in his soaked jacket as she sobbed with relief. Nico held her tight, his hand resting gently on her head, shielding her from the flashing police strobes.
The squad commander approached Nico, holstering his sidearm. "Mr. Vance, we received the data transmission sent from your sub-level server five minutes ago. The District Attorney has already issued emergency warrants for Marcella Vance and her private security contractors on charges of first-degree murder, corporate embezzlement, and attempted treason."
Two officers grabbed Marcella by the arms, pulling her roughly to her feet and clamping heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists.
As they dragged her toward the stairs, Marcella looked back at Nico, her eyes hollow, dead, and defeated.
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"You think this is over, Nico?" she hissed, her voice cracking with bitter poison. "You think you won?"
Nico looked at his ruined sister, his face showing nothing but cold pity. "It was over the moment you touched that dress, Marcella."
