Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Harbor
The warning sent a jolt of cold adrenaline straight through Marcus's veins. He sprinted back to his car, hitting the ignition, and sped toward the coordinates where Thomas had indicated the boy was last seen.
If Vanessa had sent fixers into the harbor district to find Leo before he did, the boy’s life was in mortal danger. To Vanessa, Leo wasn't just an inconvenience; he was a living, breathing existential threat to her control over the Hale dynasty. If Leo possessed abilities that defied science, Vanessa would view him as either a weapon to be controlled or a monster to be eliminated.
As Marcus navigated the unmarked sedan through the maze of towering green and red shipping containers, his headlights cut through the heavy sea fog.
Up ahead, parked illegally beside a rusted warehouse, was a sleek, matte-black Mercedes SUV with tinted windows—the calling card of corporate extraction specialists.
Marcus killed his headlights, cut the engine, and slipped out of his car into the silent, dripping rain. He drew his pistol, flicking off the safety, and crept forward along the corrugated metal wall of the warehouse.
Voices drifted through the damp night air.
"—the boss wants him quiet and brought to the private airstrip by midnight," a gruff, mechanical voice muttered. "No witnesses. If the billionaire shows up, handle him too."
Marcus peered around the corner of the container stack.
Ten yards away, two heavy-set men in tactical gear were cornering a small figure sitting atop an old wooden crate. Even in the gloom, Marcus recognized the oversized trousers and the shock of dark hair.
It was Leo.
The boy didn't look terrified. He was swinging his legs idly, looking up at the gray sky as if ignoring the two armed mercenaries towering over him.
"Alright, kid, playtime's over," one of the men growled, stepping forward and reaching out a heavy hand to grab Leo by the collar. "Time to take a little trip."
"I don't think so," Marcus's voice cut through the fog like a razor.
Both mercenaries whipped around, their weapons clearing their holsters in a flash of military-grade efficiency. But Marcus was faster. Raised in a world where survival often required ruthless preemption, he fired a warning shot into the concrete floor between them.
CRACK!
"Drop your weapons! Now!" Marcus roared, stepping out from the shadows, his pistol locked dead-center on the lead mercenary’s chest.
The mercenary cursed, hesitating for a fraction of a second, weighing his options. But before he could raise his barrel, something impossible happened.
The puddles of rainwater surrounding the mercenaries suddenly began to ripple. Not from the rain, but from a low, vibrating hum that seemed to emanate directly from Leo’s small body.
The air grew intensely hot, the sea mist evaporating into curling wisps of white steam.
The two mercenaries dropped their weapons simultaneously, clutching their heads as an invisible wave of kinetic force slammed into them like a physical wall. They staggered backward, crashing hard against the steel shipping containers, and slid unconscious onto the wet gravel.
Silence returned to the harbor, broken only by the steady patter of the rain.
Marcus lowered his gun slowly, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked from the unconscious men to the small boy sitting calmly on the crate.
May you like
Leo hopped down from the wood, smoothed his ragged shirt, and walked over to Marcus, looking up with bright, clear eyes.
"You took your time," Leo said simply.
