PART 3
We moved fast.
ATVs came off the trailer, engines kept low. No headlights—just moonlight and instinct guiding us. The airfield came into view, quiet and isolated, exactly the kind of place where things disappear without a trace.
Except the jet was already running.
Engines spinning, ready to take off.
“Cut them off,” I said.
We hit the runway hard, splitting wide. The pilot saw us—but it was too late. Gunfire cracked through the night, the front tires blowing out instantly. The jet lurched, metal screaming as it veered off the strip and slammed into the field.
We were already moving.
Two armed men rushed out. They didn’t get far.
Inside the jet—chaos. Broken glass. Torn seats.
And in the back—
Four kids.
Strapped down. Silent. Terrified in a way no child should ever be.
I dropped to my knees in front of them. “It’s over,” I said. “You’re safe now.”
They didn’t believe me. Not at first.
Then one of them reached out, grabbed my sleeve, and held on like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
That was enough.
Sirens filled the air moments later. Police. FBI. Lights cutting through the darkness.
By the time they arrived, it was done.
Back at Maggie’s, everything felt different. Ethan sat in a booth, eating pancakes, laughing softly—like a normal kid again.
Then a car pulled in fast. A woman jumped out before it even stopped.
“Ethan!”
He froze for half a second… then ran.
“Mom!”
They collided in the gravel, she dropping to her knees and wrapping him in her arms like she’d never let go again. No words. Just relief. Just love.
We didn’t interrupt.
Some moments aren’t ours.
I walked outside and started my bike. The engine roared to life beneath me. She looked at me, didn’t say a word—just nodded.
That was enough.
One by one, the Steel Wolves fell in behind me. Fifty engines rising into the night like rolling thunder.
People look at us and think they know what we are.
Maybe they’re not wrong.
But that night, a scared kid ran toward us.
And out of every place in the world—
He chose right.
