Chapter 9 - THE FINAL CONFRONTATION
Gregory Vance was fifty years old, wearing a wet Burberry trench coat, his thin hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. His face was twisted with arrogant triumph.
"Maya," Gregory sneered, stepping into the boxcar with his gun pointed straight at her chest. "Did you really think a local mobster could save you from Vanguard's resources?"
Maya stood up tall, stepping in front of Daniel, looking her uncle straight in the eye without a flicker of fear.
"The file is gone, Gregory," Maya said, her voice echoing clearly over the sound of the rain. "I just broadcast every account statement, every military contract, and every audio log from my father's office to the Department of Justice."
Gregory's smile faltered slightly, his eyes flashing with sudden uncertainty. "You're lying!"
"Check your phone, Gregory," Daniel said calmly from behind Maya, standing up slowly with his hands in his pockets. "Your corporate shares just dropped forty percent in five minutes. The federal authorities are executing a search warrant on your home right now."
Gregory pulled his phone from his coat with a trembling hand.
The screen was flashing wildly with dozens of emergency alerts, news headlines, and calls from Vanguard's chief legal counsel!
HEADLINE: VANGUARD BIO-TECH CEO ACCUSED OF MURDER AND TREASON IN MASSIVE LEAK.
"No..." Gregory whispered, his face turning ghost-white. "No! NO!"
In a fit of pure rage, Gregory raised his weapon directly at Maya's head! "I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!"
BANG!
A single gunshot shattered the air!
Gregory froze, dropping his gun as he fell backward out of the boxcar, landing heavily in the wet gravel below!
Standing on the roof of the adjacent train car, holding a long-range sniper rifle, was Julian.
The remaining four mercenaries immediately dropped their weapons to the ground, raising their hands in absolute surrender as sirens echoed in the distance—dozens of police cars and federal vehicles swerving into the rail yards with searchlights flashing against the dark clouds!
Daniel walked to the edge of the boxcar, looking down at the fallen CEO, then turned back to Maya.
He held out his hand to her.
"It's over, Dr. Lin," Daniel said gently.
May you like
Maya looked at his outstretched hand, then at the flashing blue lights reflecting off the wet steel tracks. The six months of running, of fear, of hiding behind a $9.50-an-hour apron... was finally over.
She took his hand.
