All Chapters of The Billion Dollar Contract: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

ELENA’S POVMcPherson Square, Washington DC. 11:47 AM.We sat on a bench near the fountain, surrounded by the mundane bustle of office workers on lunch breaks and tourists snapping photos of the statue. It felt surreal to be amidst normal people living normal lives, eating sandwiches and checking emails, while we waited to meet a Russian mobster's son-in-law who might be leading us into a trap.Adrian sat rigid beside me, his hand resting casually on his knee, but the posture was a lie; I could see the tension knotted in his shoulders and the way his eyes constantly scanned the crowd. He was hunting for threats—looking for Dmitri, or perhaps looking for Alexei’s men with guns concealed under jackets. The FBI was here somewhere; Reeves had promised backup positioned around the perimeter and undercover agents blending into the crowd, but I couldn't see them. That meant hopefully no one else could either.My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me. It was a text from Reeves: IN POSITION.

ADRIAN’S POVThe stolen FBI sedan handled well on the highway, merging smoothly into the afternoon traffic heading north out of Baltimore. I kept checking the rearview mirror, expecting pursuit, sirens, flashing lights. Nothing. Just normal cars driven by normal people.Elena sat rigid in the passenger seat, her hands gripped together so tightly her knuckles were white."We should have told him," she said for the third time."Told him what? That we don't trust the FBI? That there's a leak but we don't know who?""Yes.""And he would have locked us down while the leak warned Alexei and the raid found an empty hangar."She didn't argue because she knew I was right.3:47 PM.We stopped at a sporting goods store just across the New Jersey border. I went in alone while Elena waited in the car, engine running. I bought high-powered binoculars, dark clothing, and a burner phone, paying cash.Back in the car, Elena examined the binoculars. "This is your plan? Bird watching?""Reconnaissance.

ADRIAN’S POVWe burst from the cover of the marsh and hit the tarmac at a full sprint, leaving the safety of the reeds behind for the terrifying exposure of the open airfield. We were fully committed now; there was no turning back. Fifty feet ahead, the fuel truck sat parked near the hangar wall, dwarfed by the massive wing of the Gulfstream towering above it. Guards were visible near the hangar entrance, but their attention was fixed on the aircraft and the departure checklist, oblivious to the two figures running low across the tarmac in the deepening twilight.We reached a stack of equipment crates twenty feet from the truck and dropped behind them, chests heaving with exertion. My heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic bird trying to escape a cage. Elena pulled the road flare we’d bought at the sporting goods store from her pocket while I gripped the lighter in my sweating hand. We had exactly one chance to get this right."I'll draw their attention," I whispered, scanning

ADRIAN’S POVThe door locked with the heavy, final chunk of metal on metal, and the footsteps receded down the hallway, leaving us in silence. We were alone. I immediately went to the door and tested the handle; it was solid, deadbolted from the outside. No getting through without tools we didn't have.The office was maybe twelve by twelve feet, glass walls on two sides looking out into the main warehouse floor, solid walls on the other two. It contained one metal, scratched desk, two metal filing cabinets, and one office chair with a broken wheel. Nothing useful. Nothing we could use as a weapon or escape tool."We have maybe ten minutes," I said, already pulling open desk drawers. "Before he moves us somewhere more permanent."Elena was checking the glass walls, testing them. "Reinforced. We'd need something heavy to break through.""And even if we did, we'd be in the middle of the warehouse with six armed guards." Not an option.I yanked open the filing cabinets; they were empty ex

ELENA’S POVThe ventilation duct was barely wide enough for my shoulders, a claustrophobic tunnel of galvanized steel that smelled of dust and stale grease. I crawled forward on my elbows, the metal seams scraping raw skin from my arms while thick gray dust choked the air around me. Darkness stretched ahead and behind, an oppressive void broken only by the ragged sound of my own breathing and the distant, muffled echo of voices rising from below. Guards were shouting, their boots heavy on the concrete, searching for the prisoner who had vanished into the walls.I kept moving, navigating the intersections of the duct system by feel, choosing paths that seemed to angle upward toward the roof and the promise of escape. My phone burned a hole in my pocket, but I didn't dare turn it on; even the dim glow of a screen would beam through the grates like a beacon, and the electronic chime of startup would carry through the metal like a gunshot. I had to stay dark. I had to stay silent. I had t