Chapter 15 - The Fall of Vanguard and the Skies Cleared
Three hours later, United Continental Flight 409 touched down smoothly on the sun-drenched tarmac of Andrews Air Force Base outside Washington, D.C., escorted by a tight combat formation of F-22 Raptor interceptors from the North American Aerospace Defense Command.
As the aircraft rolled to a complete stop near the secure military terminal, the cabin doors swung open to reveal a massive cordon of federal marshals, military police investigators, and high-ranking Department of Justice officials waiting in formation.
Director Vance and three senior executives from Vanguard Aerospace Defense were already standing in handcuffs near the base of the mobile airstairs, having been swept up in a synchronized FBI counter-intelligence raid coordinated directly from the decrypted master files I had broadcast to federal regulatory servers during our ascent over Lake Michigan.
As I stepped down the metal stairs into the crisp morning sunlight, my canvas backpack slung securely over one shoulder, Director Vance turned his head to glare at me with pure, unadulterated venom in his eyes.
“You ruined everything, Vale,” Vance hissed through his teeth as federal agents forced him toward an unmarked black SUV.
“You can't fight an entire military-industrial complex.”
“I didn't fight an empire, Vance,” I replied coldly, adjusting the collar of my jacket as I looked out across the vast, clear expanse of the military airfield.
“I just checked your math.”
A tall, decorated Air Force two-star general stepped forward from the line of officers, holding out his hand with an expression of profound, hard-earned respect.
“Welcome home, Meridian,” the general said quietly, his voice carrying across the quiet tarmac.
“The official record has been corrected.”
“Your civilian operating license is fully restored, and your retirement is officially revoked, effective immediately.”
I looked down at my hands, feeling the old, familiar weight of a flight yoke calling out to me from the open horizon above.
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The ghost of the Mojave Desert was finally laid to rest.
The skies were clean, the horizon was wide open, and for the first time in three long years, I was ready to fly again.
