Chapter 3 - Blood on the Asphalt
""Olivia!"" Julian’s shout cut through the cavernous chatter of the terminal.
The woman’s head whipped around, her eyes widening in pure terror. Recognition flared instantly in her pale face, but before she could cry out, the taller man clamped a thick leather-gloved hand over her mouth. The second man shoved a brass baggage cart straight into Julian’s path.
Julian reacted on instinct. He ducked beneath the luggage rack, shoving Lucy behind a row of vending machines. ""Stay here, Lucy! Don't move!"" he ordered, throwing himself at the heavier assailant.
Julian slammed his shoulder into the man's chest, sending them both crashing into a metal magazine stand. Glossy tabloids and plastic racks exploded across the linoleum. The attacker twisted with lethal military precision, driving an elbow toward Julian’s jaw, but years of collegiate boxing saved Julian; he rolled with the impact, driving his right fist into the man's solar plexus. The guard gasped, staggering backward.
Across the concourse, the taller man was dragging Olivia backward toward the emergency exit, ignoring her desperate kicks. Olivia clawed at his gloved fingers, leaving bloody streaks along his wrist, her eyes locked on Julian in agonizing desperation.
""Get off her!"" Julian roared, scrambling to his feet.
The security alarms began to wail, a shrill, piercing klaxon that sent passengers scattering like pigeons. Security guards in blue uniforms hurried from the west corridor, blowing whistles.
The taller assailant realized he was out of time. With a curse, he violently shoved Olivia to the concrete, spun around, and kicked open the fire exit doors, disappearing into the torrential alleyway with his partner close behind.
Julian sprinted across the slick floor, skidding to his knees beside the fallen woman. ""Olivia... Olivia, look at me.""
She coughed, a dry, rattling heave, and turned her head. When her gaze met his, eight years of fabricated tragedy collapsed into dust. Her hand rose shakily, touching his stubbled cheek with trembling, icy fingers. ""Julian... you really didn't know?""
""I thought you died in Buffalo,"" Julian choked out, tears finally breaking through his defenses as he pulled her frail body into his arms. ""I held an urn, Olivia. I buried a ghost.""
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Olivia let out a ragged sob, burying her face into his neck. ""She paid off the coroner. She took everything... but she couldn't take Lucy.""
A small gasp pulled them both from the embrace. Lucy slowly emerged from behind the vending machines, clutching a single dropped item left behind by the fleeing attackers: an encrypted black smartphone, its cracked screen lighting up with an incoming call from ""V. HALE.""
