Darkness swallowed Hangar 7.

Not emergency lighting. Not dim backup glow.

Total black.

For half a second, nobody moved.

Then shouting erupted.

"Power's down!"
"Lock the doors!"
"Find them!"

Flashlights snapped on, beams slicing through dust and metal. The sleek white jet became a shadowed giant in the center of chaos.

Maria moved first. She grabbed the approaching contractor's arm, twisted, drove him silently into a stack of crates. He dropped without a sound.

Alex was already inside the open access panel, hands moving fast. He didn't need to destroy the aircraft—just cripple its hydraulic control system long enough to ground it.

"Five minutes until backup generators," Daniel murmured from somewhere in the dark.

"How do you know?" Alex shot back quietly.

"I cut them."

That stopped Alex for half a second.

Daniel continued calmly, "But not permanently. They'll reboot."

Gunfire cracked across the hangar—warning shots into darkness.

"They're panicking," Maria said.

"Good," Daniel replied.

A flashlight beam locked onto Alex's position.

"There!"

A shot rang out. Metal sparked inches from his head.

Maria fired once in return—not to hit, just to force cover.

Alex ripped two critical connectors free and jammed a steel wedge into the actuator housing. If the jet tried to taxi, hydraulic pressure would seize the front landing assembly.

It wouldn't take off.

It wouldn't even roll straight.

Footsteps thundered closer.

Daniel stepped into the beam of a charging guard and dropped him with a clean strike to the throat.

"Time!" Daniel barked.

The hum of emergency generators began to rise.

Lights flickered—

Then surged back to life.

The hangar exploded in clarity.

Four contractors. Two down. Two aiming.

Alex slammed the panel shut and stood.

"Run," Maria said.

They didn't argue.

They sprinted toward the side exit as bullets tore into tool cabinets and concrete behind them. A round grazed Alex's shoulder, spinning him but not dropping him.

Daniel shoved the side door open.

Cold night air hit them like freedom.

They vanished between fuel trucks just as airport sirens began to wail.

Behind them, inside Hangar 7, shouting grew louder.

Then came the sound they'd been waiting for.

A hydraulic test spin.

A grinding shriek.

Metal screaming against itself.

The jet's nose dipped violently as pressure locked the system.

More shouting.

More panic.

Maria allowed herself one breath of relief. "Grounded."

Daniel didn't slow down. "Temporarily."

Alex pressed a hand to his bleeding shoulder. "How temporary?"

Daniel looked back at the hangar lights flashing red.

"Long enough for Whitford to show himself."