Chapter 14 - HANGAR SIX
The drive to Centennial Airport took eleven minutes with emergency lights.
It felt like an hour.
Pierce sat in front receiving updates.
I sat behind her with an agent named Coletti.
No relation to Ethan.
My phone stayed in my hand.
Brianna did not call again.
"Tactical team has eyes on Hangar Six."
Pierce relayed.
"Northstar turboprop engines running."
"Hangar doors?"
"Half open."
"Brianna?"
"No visual."
"Voss?"
"No visual."
"Other personnel?"
"One male near tug vehicle."
"Armed?"
"Unknown."
I stared through the windshield.
"Can the aircraft depart from inside the hangar?"
Coletti shook his head.
"Needs tow or taxi."
"Then block it."
Pierce was already transmitting.
"Airport operations is locking movement."
"Runway vehicles blocking taxi access."
Good.
Voss could start engines.
He could make noise.
He could scare Brianna.
He was not taking off without driving through federal vehicles.
We entered through a service gate.
Hangar Six sat at the end of a row of industrial buildings.
Its metal door was open about twenty feet.
The turboprop's nose pointed outward.
Both engines spun.
Prop wash blew loose snow and dust across the pavement.
Agents sheltered behind vehicles.
Pierce pulled me down behind an SUV.
"You stay here."
I nodded.
This was not my mission.
I repeated it in my head.
Not my mission.
A negotiator called Voss.
No answer.
Loudspeaker.
"DANIEL VOSS, THIS IS FEDERAL LAW ENFORCEMENT."
No response.
"TURN OFF THE AIRCRAFT ENGINES AND EXIT THE HANGAR WITH EMPTY HANDS."
Nothing.
Then one engine stopped.
The second kept running.
"Movement."
An agent called.
"Office window."
I looked.
A silhouette appeared on the mezzanine inside.
Female.
Brianna.
Her hands were pressed against the glass.
My body moved before my brain.
Pierce grabbed my jacket.
"No."
I stopped.
Brianna struck the glass with something.
Once.
Twice.
She was trying to break it.
Then a second silhouette appeared behind her.
Voss.
He pulled her back.
I could not hear what he said.
I could see Brianna fighting him.
"He has her."
My voice came out low.
Pierce spoke into radio.
"Hostage confirmed."
Everything changed.
The negotiator stopped using commands and started using conversation.
"Daniel."
"Pick up the phone."
"Nobody needs to get hurt."
The office light switched off.
Brianna disappeared.
Thirty seconds later, Voss called Pierce.
She answered on speaker.
"Daniel."
"Move the vehicles."
"We can talk about that."
"Move them."
"Is Brianna injured?"
"No."
"Let me hear her."
Silence.
Then Brianna's voice.
"I'm here."
I closed my eyes for half a second.
Alive.
Voss returned.
"Move the vehicles."
Pierce kept her tone neutral.
"Where do you want to go?"
"Not your concern."
"It becomes my concern when you try to leave an airport during a federal investigation."
"I have not been charged."
"You are currently preventing a woman from leaving."
"She came voluntarily."
"She no longer wants to be there."
"She's confused."
I felt rage rise.
The same word.
Emotional.
Confused.
Words men use when a woman stops cooperating with the story they wrote for her.
Pierce continued.
"Daniel, shut down the aircraft."
"Move the vehicles."
"What happens if I do?"
"Brianna walks out."
I did not believe him.
Neither did Pierce.
"Let her walk out first."
"No."
"Then we have a trust problem."
Voss laughed softly.
"You have a trust problem because your witnesses are liars."
"Then come explain that."
"To people who already decided I am guilty?"
"No one has to decide anything in a hangar."
Silence.
Then a smell reached me.
Sharp.
Chemical.
Fuel.
I looked toward the aircraft.
The remaining engine was still running.
A thin line glistened beneath the right wing.
"Pierce."
She looked at me.
I pointed.
Fuel was leaking.
Not from the aircraft itself.
From a hose connected to a portable fueling cart.
Someone had opened the line.
The spill widened across the hangar floor.
"Kill power to building."
Pierce ordered.
An airport technician shook his head.
"Engine ignition is independent."
"Can we shut the engine remotely?"
"No."
The danger changed instantly.
One spark.
One hot surface.
One electrical arc.
A hangar full of fuel vapor could become an oven.
"Daniel."
Pierce's voice sharpened.
"You have a fuel leak."
"I know."
That answer froze me.
He knew.
"Shut the engine down."
"Move the vehicles."
"You are creating an ignition hazard."
"Then you should hurry."
This was no longer panic.
This was leverage.
He was willing to risk Brianna, agents, airport workers, and himself to create an exit.
Pierce muted the call.
"Fire response?"
"Staged two hundred yards."
"Foam?"
"Ready."
"Sniper visual?"
An agent shook his head.
"No clean shot."
I stared at the hangar layout.
Main door.
Office mezzanine.
Side maintenance door.
Rear emergency exit likely behind tool storage.
"Building plans?"
Pierce looked at me.
"Why?"
"Rear exit."
"Team covers it."
"Does Voss know?"
"Probably."
"Brianna might not."
Pierce understood.
If we could communicate a route to her, she might separate herself from him.
"Can you text?"
"Her phone is at the hotel."
"Other phone?"
The one she called from.
Unknown number.
Pierce had it.
She texted one sentence.
IF YOU CAN GET TO REAR EXIT, DO IT.
No response.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Then a message appeared.
CAN'T.
Another.
HE HAS KEYCARD.
Pierce typed.
FIRE EXIT SHOULD OPEN WITHOUT CARD.
Response.
BLOCKED WITH TOOL CABINET.
I almost laughed from relief.
She had the phone.
She was thinking.
Pierce typed again.
CAN YOU MOVE IT QUIETLY?
Long pause.
NO.
HE'S WATCHING.
Then another message.
I RECORDED HIM.
Pierce looked at me.
I stared at the screen.
"Recorded what?"
She typed.
WHAT DID HE SAY?
Response came.
EVERYTHING.
Then.
HE ADMITTED GLASS MOUNTAIN.
My pulse kicked.
Voss had confessed to Brianna.
Maybe not legally complete.
Maybe not enough alone.
But everything mattered.
Pierce texted.
KEEP PHONE HIDDEN.
Brianna answered.
TRYING.
Then the call with Voss resumed.
"Time is up."
He said.
"Move the vehicles."
Pierce looked at the expanding fuel pool.
"Daniel, if I move vehicles, you still cannot safely taxi through spilled fuel."
"Not your decision."
"It is physics."
"Move them."
Behind the hangar window, movement appeared.
Brianna.
She stepped into view.
Voss followed.
He held something in his right hand.
Not a gun.
A black rectangular device.
A remote igniter.
Or maybe just a phone.
From this distance, impossible to tell.
He pointed toward the floor.
Then toward the door.
Pierce's face tightened.
"Daniel, what is in your hand?"
He did not answer.
Brianna suddenly looked straight through the window toward where I was hiding.
I don't know if she could see me.
Then she did something strange.
She lifted two fingers.
Dropped one.
Lifted two again.
My brain caught up.
Two.
One.
Two.
Our childhood signal.
When we were kids, Dad taught us a simple code for hide-and-seek.
Two taps meant distract.
One tap meant run.
We had not used it in twenty years.
I stared at her.
She repeated it.
Two.
One.
Two.
She had a plan.
That terrified me.
Because Brianna's plans had caused enough trouble for one lifetime.
Then she smiled at Voss.
A bright, familiar, social smile.
The smile she used to win rooms.
She touched his arm.
And I realized exactly what she was doing.
May you like
For the first time in her life, Brianna was using her talent for attention to save someone instead of impress them.
