Chapter 9 - The Lift-Off
The flight crew standing by the open ramp of the C-17 Globemaster snapped to attention as we approached, assisting the children up the metal stairs with practiced efficiency and warm, professional smiles.
As I reached the threshold of the cabin, I paused and looked back across the lawn one last time.
The scene looked like a painting of a ruined empire. Daniel Reynolds stood alone in the center of the snowy courtyard, the shattered glass of his whiskey tumbler glittering around his polished shoes like broken diamonds. Victoria was screaming at him, her manicured hands gesticulating wildly in front of his face, but he didn't seem to hear her. He was staring up at the aircraft with a look of hollow, empty devastation, realizing precisely what he had thrown away five years ago in a sterile clinic in Bethesda.
The heavy hydraulic door of the transport slid inward with a smooth, pneumatic hiss, sealing out the cold Virginia air, the screaming crowd, and the ghost of a marriage built on ambition and cowardice.
Inside the heated, spacious cabin of the transport, the children immediately unzipped their heavy coats, chattering excitedly about the glowing instrument panels and the rows of webbed jump seats.
"Strap in, team," I said, taking my seat at the forward bulkhead and securing my harness with a sharp, satisfying *click*.
The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. "General Evans, flight plan cleared by tower. Rotor pitch adjusting for immediate departure. We are wheels-up in thirty seconds."
"Proceed, Major," I replied.
The massive engines whined, rising from a low, steady hum into a deafening, thunderous roar that vibrated through the floorboards of the aircraft. Outside the reinforced cabin windows, the swirling snow whipped into a blinding white hurricane as the transport lifted off the ground, rising steadily into the dark, star-lit sky above the Potomac.
I looked out the window as the Great Falls estate shrank rapidly beneath us, turning from a sprawling, glowing fortress into a tiny, insignificant speck of light swallowed up by the vast, dark expanse of the winter night.
Nathan leaned across the aisle, resting his small chin on my knee. "Mommy, where are we going now?"
I reached out, smoothing his dark hair—hair that caught the cabin light with the exact same silver-streaked promise as my own—and pulled him close against my shoulder.
May you like
"Home, sweetheart," I said, looking out toward the mountains where the dawn was just beginning to streak the eastern horizon with gold. "Just home."
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