Chapter 76 - The Convergence at Terminal 4
"The old boiler room beneath St. Jude's Memorial," I commanded, reciting the coordinates from memory. "The sub-basement has a lead-shielded radiation vault from the 1960s. No thermal drone can see through it. Get them inside, seal the manual hatch, and do not open it for anyone except me or Marcus. We are en route."
I cut the call, spinning toward Valerie. "We need a private bird out of Zurich immediately. Burn whatever diplomatic favors we have left."
Marcus appeared in the doorway, his face pale, but his boots were already laced and his shoulder harness was strapped tightly over a fresh combat shirt. "The transport is already warming up at the private airstrip in Dübendorf. Wheels up in twenty minutes."
"Marcus, you can barely stand—"
"I stand when our children are safe," he cut me off, his dark eyes burning with an unshakeable, terrifying fury. "Not a second before."
Eight hours later, our chartered Gulfstream touched down on the snow-slicked tarmac of JFK International Airport under the cover of a ferocious nor'easter. The storm had grounded commercial aviation, leaving the vast terminal labyrinth half-dark and deserted.
We didn't clear through normal customs. Valerie's contacts in homeland security had authorized a black-ops tarmac transfer, but as our armored SUV approached the service gates near Terminal 4, the perimeter lights suddenly snapped off.
The gate wasn't manned by Port Authority police.
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Three unmarked armored tactical trucks blocked the exit, their high-intensity searchlights blazing through the blinding blizzard, pinning our vehicle in a blinding cross of white light.
"Ambush!" Marcus yelled, drawing his weapon as the SUV's bulletproof windshield cracked under a volley of heavy rifle fire.
