Chapter 10
CABIN 4A: THE FINAL SHOWDOWN
The plush cabin of the private jet smelled of expensive leather and champagne.
Soft amber lighting cast a surreal glow over the luxury interior.
Rosalyn stood by the mahogany partition near the cockpit door.
A compact silver Walther PPK was gripped firmly in her right hand.
The barrel was pointed straight at Bastian’s chest.
Her designer clothes were ruined, her hair plastered to her face.
Yet her eyes gleamed with absolute, unhinged triumph.
"You really are a persistent cockroach, Calder," Rosalyn sneered.
She flicked the safety switch off with her thumb.
"I told you that you wouldn't reach me in time."
"And look at your little bastard son."
"He has maybe ten minutes left before his heart stops completely."
Bastian raised his hands slowly to show he was unarmed.
His eyes darted around the cabin, calculating every angle.
"The antidote, Rosalyn," Bastian said, his voice deadly calm.
"Give it to me, and I’ll let the authorities handle your sentence."
"My sentence?" Rosalyn laughed hysterically.
"I’m flying to a country with no extradition treaty!"
"I’ve won, Bastian! You lost everything!"
Mira gently lowered Evan onto a white leather couch.
The boy’s breathing was agonizingly slow, his eyes closed.
"Please," Mira choked out, tears streaming down her face.
"Don't let him die. He’s just a little boy."
Rosalyn glanced down at Evan with cold, merciless disdain.
"Collateral damage in a war your boss started," she muttered.
She kept the pistol locked firmly on Bastian’s heart.
"Back away from him, Calder! Move toward the back cabin!"
Bastian didn't move an inch.
He took one slow, deliberate step forward instead.
"Shoot me then, Rosalyn," Bastian challenged quietly.
"If you pull that trigger, the pilot will crash this jet into the mountains."
"Because you don't know how to override the flight computer."
Rosalyn’s hand flickered with doubt for a single second.
Her eyes darted nervously toward the closed cockpit door.
It was the exact opening Bastian was waiting for.
With blinding speed, Bastian lunged to the side.
He kicked a heavy silver champagne bucket across the floor.
It slammed violently into Rosalyn’s shinbone.
Rosalyn shrieked in pain, her finger twitching on the trigger.
*Bang!*
The gunshot shattered a side cabin window instantly.
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Decompression air rushed into the cabin with a deafening roar.
[Cliffhanger: The bullet pierces the main cabin oxygen line, filling the air with a blinding white fog and sending the jet into a steep, terrifying nose dive.]
