Chapter 8 - Confrontation on the Bridge
I didn't slow down.
I slammed my foot onto the brake only at the last possible second, pulling the handbrake to spin David’s sports car sideways. The vehicle slid across three lanes of rain-soaked asphalt, coming to a dead stop horizontally across the bridge deck, blocking Victoria’s clear line of sight to Marcus’s vehicle.
I threw the door open and stepped out into the howling wind generated by the hovering helicopter above.
"Victoria!" I yelled, my voice cutting through the roar of the rotor blades and the pounding rain.
Victoria whirled around, her sleek hair plastered to her forehead by the storm. Her eyes widened in utter disbelief as she saw me standing there, alive, unyielding, and fierce.
"You really are a cockroach, aren't you, Sarah?" Victoria sneered, holding her pistol steady, pointing it right between my eyes. "You should have died in that kitchen! You should have let David finish the job!"
"David is gone, Victoria!" I shouted back, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. "Petrov has him! Your money is gone! Your firm’s ledgers are on every law enforcement database in the country right now!"
Victoria’s composure cracked for a fraction of a second, her jaw tightening in fury. "It doesn't matter! Once I board that helicopter, I have accounts in Zurich that no government can touch! But I’m not leaving you behind to testify!"
She squeezed the trigger.
POP! POP!
The bullets struck the hood of the sports car right beside me, sending sparks flying into the night air. I dived behind the engine block as a hail of gunfire erupted from her mercenaries.
Suddenly, the heavy metal door of Marcus’s pinned SUV burst open.
Marcus emerged, wielding a high-powered flare gun. He aimed directly at the fuel tank of the leading mercenary vehicle and fired.
THUMP!
The blinding white flare struck the engine bay, igniting lingering gasoline fumes in a sudden, violent ball of orange fire. The mercenaries scattered in panic as the explosion rocked the bridge, smoke billowing up into the helicopter’s intake vents.
The chopper lurched violently in the sky, its pilot forced to pull up to avoid the dense smoke and thermal blast.
"Now, Sarah!" Marcus yelled, charging forward to tackle one of the remaining security guards to the ground.
Victoria panicked. Seeing her escape route slipping away, she turned and sprinted toward the rope ladder dangling from the ascending helicopter.
I leapt over the hood of the burning car, my boots pounding against the wet concrete, driving myself forward with every ounce of strength left in my body.
Victoria reached the ladder, grabbing the lowest rung with both hands as the helicopter pulled her feet ten feet off the ground.
"No, you don't!" I screamed.
I launched myself off the bridge railing, my hands reaching out into the open air above the freezing river.
My fingers caught the back of Victoria’s expensive leather coat.
The extra weight pulled the rope ladder taut, forcing the helicopter to drop lower under the sudden strain. Victoria shrieked in terror, kicking blindly at my face with her heavy heels.
"Let go of me, you bitch!" she screamed, swinging her foot into my collarbone.
Pain exploded through my shoulder, but I held on with a mother's relentless strength. I reached up, pulling myself up her leg, grabbing her wrist, and twisting the gun from her fingers. The pistol plummeted into the dark river hundreds of feet below.
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"This ends now!" I roared, using my body weight to yank down with all my power.
The seams of her coat ripped apart with a loud tear. Victoria lost her grip on the wet rope ladder, and we both plummeted onto the hard deck of the bridge below.