Chapter 12 - Battle on the Roof
The wind on the roof was fierce, whipping rain across my face and freezing my skin.
The deafening roar of the helicopter’s twin turbines drowned out every sound as the massive black blades spun into a blur overhead.
I topped the final ladder rung, stepping onto the slick, wet gravel surface of the rooftop helipad.
Julian Vance was fifty feet away, his suit jacket flapping wildly in the rotor wash, running toward the open side door of the idling helicopter. A pilot in a dark visor was sitting in the cockpit, giving Vance a thumbs-up.
"VANCE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs over the roar of the engine.
Vance paused at the helicopter door, turning around in absolute shock to see me standing on the edge of the roof, covered in rain and blood, holding the empty compact pistol.
"You again?" Vance shouted over the thunder of the blades, his face twisting in disgust. "You just don't know when to die, do you?"
Vance reached inside his coat, pulling a small silver pistol from his holster. He raised it, pointing it straight at me as he took three steps back toward the helicopter.
"This ends now, Evelyn!" Vance yelled.
Suddenly, a massive spotlight tore through the dark storm clouds above the building.
A heavy police tactical chopper dropped out of the sky directly over our heads, its powerful searchlight pinning Vance in a beam of blinding white light!
"THIS IS THE STATE POLICE!" a thunderous voice boomed from the police chopper’s loudspeaker. "DROP YOUR WEAPON IMMEDIATELY! PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!"
Vance blinked in the blinding light, panic finally shattering his arrogant composure. "What... how?!"
Down on the helipad access stairs, the door slammed open.
Detective Carter—his shoulder bandaged tightly with a medical strap—and Marcus Reed burst onto the roof, flanked by four heavily armed State Trooper SWAT officers with rifles raised!
"Drop the gun, Vance!" Carter bellowed, his voice echoing over the storm. "It's over! Marcus uploaded your entire private server logs to the FBI ten minutes ago! They have the trial data, the bribe records, and the hit orders for Victor Cole!"
Vance looked at the SWAT officers, then at Marcus, and finally at me.
His hands began to shake violently. The silver pistol in his grip wobbled.
"No..." Vance stammered, stepping backward toward the open helicopter door. "No! I built this company! I save lives!"
"You're a murderer, Vance," I said, stepping forward through the rain until I was standing just ten feet from him. "And you're going to spend the rest of your life in a small, dark cell thinking about the family you tried to destroy."
Vance’s eyes went wild with desperation. He raised his gun toward me one last time—
BANG!
A single sniper shot from the state police chopper echoed through the night.
The bullet struck the gun out of Vance’s hand, sending the silver pistol flying off the roof into the dark woods below.
Vance dropped to his knees on the slick gravel, cradling his shattered, bloody hand, screaming in agony.
Two SWAT officers rushed forward, slamming Vance face-down onto the roof deck and pulling his arms behind his back in heavy steel handcuffs.
Detective Carter walked over to me, wrapping a dry thermal blanket around my shaking shoulders.
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"You did it, Evelyn," Carter said softly, offering a faint, tired smile. "It's over. He's never hurting anyone again."
I lowered my head, the rain washing the blood and dirt from my face, and let out a long, heavy sob—not of fear, but of absolute, overwhelming victory.
