ECHOES OF THE TERMINAL FLOOR

"Now!" Mark shouted.

Marcus lunged across the floor, grabbed the silver case, and tore the latches open with his bare hands. He flipped the foam divider, revealing three glass ampoules nestled beside a high-capacity encrypted hard drive.

Marcus snapped the neck off a glass vial, drawing the clear liquid into a pre-loaded syringe with hands that shook despite his iron frame. "Hold his leg! Vance, hold him down!"

Mark pressed Leo’s small knees firmly against the wooden floorboards. "Do it."

Marcus drove the needle straight into the boy’s thigh muscle, depressing the plunger with a heavy click.

For three long seconds, nothing happened. Leo’s back arched violently, his eyes opening wide, staring unseeingly at the torn ceiling of the tent. He drew in a massive, ragged gasp of air that sounded like drowning in reverse. Then, his body collapsed back into Mark’s arms, his muscles going completely limp.

Marcus checked the boy’s throat with two fingers. A ragged breath escaped the mechanic’s lips. "Pulse is slowing down. The counter-agent neutralized the alkaline in the casing. He's breathing on his own."

Mark pulled the boy tight against his chest, wrapping his own heavy rain jacket completely around the child’s shivering frame.

Behind them, Aris groaned, pushing himself up against the tent pole, blood dripping from his fingers onto the pristine leather of his shoes. "You fools... do you have any idea... who owns that drive?"

Mark stood up slowly, lifting Leo securely in his left arm. He walked over to where Aris sat. Mark’s eyes were completely devoid of warmth.

"The drive contains the names of every private transit inspector your company bought out for the last twelve years," Mark said, his voice deadly quiet. "Including the ones who tried to drown my sister in Lake Michigan."

Mark looked at Marcus. "Can you fly that bird out there?" He nodded toward the lead helicopter idling on the pad.

Marcus picked up his revolver, checking the cylinder. "I flew them for fifteen years before I started running baggage for your sister. I can get us to the federal airstrip in Chicago before their corporate office even knows the pier is dark."

"Chicago is compromised," Mark said, adjusting the boy’s head against his shoulder. "We go to Quantico."