Chapter 13 - The Meeting at Dusk
The private airstrip at Teterboro Airport was shrouded in a thick, rolling mist as the Gulfstream private jet touched down on the rain-slicked tarmac, its jet engines screaming before slowly whining to a halt.
Inside a sleek black SUV parked just outside the restricted security perimeter, Damian Caruso sat in the driver's seat, his hands resting lightly on the leather steering wheel. In the passenger seat beside him sat Elena, her expression calm, determined, and entirely devoid of fear.
"You didn't have to come," Damian said quietly, keeping his eyes on the private jet's unfolding metal stairs.
"She's hunting the woman who stole her child," Elena replied, her voice steady as she checked the slide of her backup pistol before tucking it securely into her coat pocket. "You think I'm going to sit at home and wait for a phone call? Not a chance, Damian."
Damian offered a grim, respectful nod. "Stay close behind me. Katrine Vance isn't like her brother. Victor was loud, arrogant, and sloppy. Katrine is a ghost—she builds networks of shadows and disappears before anyone realizes they've been robbed."
The cabin door of the private jet swung open, and a woman descended the metal steps into the misty night air.
She was in her late forties, dressed in an immaculate cashmere trench coat, wearing dark sunglasses despite the night, her silver-streaked blonde hair pulled back into a severe, flawless bun. She carried herself with the cold, aristocratic poise of a woman who viewed human beings as mere commodities on a balance sheet.
Two armed bodyguards flanked her immediately, scanning the tarmac with wary eyes.
As Katrine stepped off the metal stairs onto the wet pavement, a black sedan approached her from the opposite side, its headlights cutting through the mist.
Instead of waiting, Damian shifted the SUV into gear, roaring across the tarmac and cutting directly across the path of Katrine's vehicle, blocking her escape route.
The two bodyguards instantly drew their weapons, shouting in alarm, but before they could raise their barrels, Damian’s door flew open and Marco—along with three elite operatives—emerged from the trailing support vehicles, their tactical rifles locked and loaded.
"Lower your weapons or you die on this runway," Marco’s voice boomed through the damp night air.
Katrine Vance didn't flinch. She slowly removed her sunglasses, her cold, sharp eyes scanning the armed men before landing directly on Damian Caruso—and then shifting to Elena Moretti standing beside him.
A slow, chilling smile touched Katrine's lips.
"Mr. Caruso," Katrine said smoothly, her voice like grinding glass. "I must admit, I expected a warmer welcome when returning to New York."
Damian walked forward, stopping just a few feet away from her, his sheer physical presence dwarfing the sophisticated broker. "Your brother is in a federal penitentiary, Katrine. Your European network was dismantled this morning. You stepped onto the wrong runway."
Katrine laughed softly, a dry, humorless sound. "Victor was an amateur. He relied on brute force and clumsy hospital bribes. My operations are cleaner, Mr. Caruso. You think arresting me or seizing a few bank accounts ends the demand for exclusive, hand-picked children among the global elite?"
"It ends yours," Elena’s voice cut through the damp air like a blade.
Katrine turned her gaze toward Elena, her eyebrows raising in mild curiosity. "Ah. The biological mother. Tell me, Mrs. Moretti... do you honestly believe you can stop an industry worth billions of dollars with a pistol and a grieving heart?"
Elena didn't blink. She stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Damian.
"I'm not trying to stop the entire world, Katrine," Elena said steadily. "I'm just stopping you."
Before Katrine could reply, the wail of approaching sirens echoed across the tarmac. Within seconds, three federal transport vehicles and local state police cruisers swarmed the airstrip from all directions, their red and blue emergency lights flashing brilliantly against the heavy mist.
Federal marshals poured out of the vehicles, weapons drawn, surrounding Katrine and her bodyguards before they could even twitch.
Marco stepped up beside Katrine, snapping heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists with professional efficiency.
"Katrine Vance, you're under arrest for international human trafficking, conspiracy, and racketeering," Marco recited flatly.
As the marshals led her away toward a federal transport van, Katrine turned her head back once more, offering a chilling, parting smirk. "You won the battle on this runway, Caruso. But the market never sleeps. Someone else will always take my place."
May you like
Damian watched her vanish into the back of the van, his expression remaining hard as iron.
"Let her talk," Damian said quietly, wrapping his arm around Elena's waist and pulling her close against his side. "Because she'll be doing it from behind bulletproof glass for the rest of her natural life."
