Chapter 8: High-Stakes Gambit
In the Air – 02:15 Hours
Jasper Hawke’s arms burned as he clung to the helicopter skid, the wind howling like a storm around him. His muscles strained against the brutal force of the air pressure, and below him, Berlin spread out like a sea of lights, distant and uncaring.
Above him, Langley peered down, his expression flickering between amusement and annoyance.
“You really don’t know when to let go, do you?” Langley shouted over the roar of the rotors.
Hawke tightened his grip. “And you really don’t know when you’ve lost.”
The pilot banked hard left, trying to shake him off. The force wrenched at Hawke’s shoulders, nearly ripping him free. His fingers slipped—but he caught himself just in time, swinging his leg up in a fluid motion. His boot connected hard with the underside of the aircraft, stabilizing him.
Langley’s face twisted. “Persistent as ever.” He unholstered a pistol, leveling it at Hawke.
No hesitation.
Hawke swung his weight, shifting his grip and kicking upward. His boot slammed into Langley’s wrist, knocking the gun loose. It spun away, disappearing into the night.
Langley cursed and lunged, but Hawke was already moving. With a surge of strength, he pulled himself onto the skid. The helicopter rocked, the turbulence fighting against them.
Now they were face to face, separated only by the howling wind and the deadly intent in Langley’s eyes.
“Let’s end this, Hawke,” Langley growled.
“Couldn’t agree more.”
Inside the Helicopter – 02:17 Hours
Hawke lunged. The two men collided in a violent struggle, grappling for control as the aircraft tilted. Langley swung first, but Hawke dodged, twisting his body to throw Langley off-balance.
The pilot shouted in panic, struggling to keep the helicopter level.
Langley recovered fast, throwing a brutal elbow strike at Hawke’s ribs. Pain exploded through Hawke’s side, but he used the momentum to drive Langley backward, slamming him against the open doorframe.
Below them, the city blurred past, a dizzying view of streets and rooftops.
Langley gritted his teeth, reaching for something at his belt. A knife.
Hawke reacted instantly. He caught Langley’s wrist, twisting sharply. The blade clattered to the floor.
But Langley was a survivor. He didn’t stop. Instead, he slammed his forehead forward, cracking against Hawke’s skull.
For a split second, everything went white.
Losing Control – 02:19 Hours
Hawke staggered back, momentarily dazed. Langley pressed the advantage, shoving him toward the open door.
The night air rushed in, a sheer drop below.
“You should’ve stayed out of this, Hawke,” Langley sneered.
Hawke gritted his teeth, blinking away the stars in his vision. His hand shot out—grabbing the safety harness still clipped to Langley’s vest.
Langley’s smirk vanished the moment he realized.
Hawke yanked hard.
Langley stumbled forward. His boot slipped against the edge of the helicopter frame. He lost his balance.
And then—he was falling.
For a split second, his eyes locked onto Hawke’s in sheer disbelief.
Then he vanished into the darkness below.
Regaining Control – 02:20 Hours
Hawke took a deep breath, steadying himself. The fight was over.
The pilot turned, panic all over his face. “What the hell do you want from me?”
Hawke leveled his gun at the man. “Fly me out of here.”
The pilot didn’t argue.
As the helicopter veered away, Hawke allowed himself one last look at the Berlin skyline.
Langley was gone. But the game wasn’t over yet.
