Chapter 18 - The Runway
We did not let Thomas choose the entire battlefield.
He wanted me alone.
He got the appearance of me alone.
I drove toward the abandoned airfield just before midnight while Hsu’s teams stayed far enough back to avoid obvious detection. Mason remained in the mobile command unit, furious and helpless.
“You do not leave the car unless we confirm your mother,” he said through my hidden earpiece.
“That is the plan.”
“I need you to say you understand.”
“I understand.”
“That is not the same as agreeing.”
“You know me too well.”
“Unfortunately.”
The runway appeared beyond a line of dead grass.
One vehicle sat under a broken hangar light.
My mother was beside it.
Thomas stood behind her.
For the first time, I saw him clearly.
He looked like Mason in twenty-five years.
Same height.
Same eyes.
Nothing else.
I stepped out.
Mom shook her head violently.
“Olivia, go!”
Thomas pressed a gun against her side.
“Quiet.”
I held up Dad’s letter.
“You wanted this.”
“I wanted to know whether he told you everything.”
“Why?”
“Because dead men are careless with context.”
“Did you kill him?”
Thomas sighed.
“You really need that answer.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I studied his face.
He continued.
“I tried to delay him. I tried to scare him. I compromised people around him. I am responsible for many things.”
“But not the crash.”
“Not directly.”
“Who changed the component?”
Thomas smiled sadly.
“Your father figured it out before I did.”
“Who?”
He looked at my mother.
Mom began crying.
My pulse exploded.
“No,” I said.
Mom shook her head. “I didn’t know.”
Thomas laughed.
“She always says that.”
“What did she do?”
Mom sobbed. “I gave Kane Dad’s travel file.”
“I know.”
“No. The maintenance notes were attached.”
I froze.
Thomas nodded.
“Kane passed them to a contractor who had shorted Meridian’s stock and needed a scandal. He swapped an uncertified component to force a maintenance failure on the ground.”
My throat tightened.
“But the failure happened in the air.”
“Yes.”
Mom covered her mouth.
“I didn’t know.”
I looked at her.
For the first time, I believed that part.
She had not intended to kill him.
But her need to feel useful had opened the door.
Thomas raised the gun slightly.
“Now give me the letter.”
“Why?”
“Because it names me.”
“So do a dozen federal files.”
“Not in his handwriting.”
There it was.
Not evidence.
Ego.
Thomas wanted to erase the last piece of a man who had beaten him morally even in death.
I walked forward and held out the letter.
“Mom first.”
He pushed her toward me.
She stumbled.
I caught her.
Thomas reached for the paper.
Then Mom did something I never expected.
She grabbed his wrist.
May you like
“Run, Olivia!”
The gun fired.
