My boots splashed into a deep puddle, spraying cold water up my shins.

The wind from the twin propellers hit me like a wall, smelling of burnt fuel and ozone.

“Mom!”

The voice was high and thin, cutting through the roar of the engines.

It was Lucas.

He was standing near the top of the stairs, his small hand gripping the cold metal handrail.

Beside him, Mason stood frozen, his eyes wide with fear, clutching his silver thermos to his chest.

“Get back inside, Lucas,” Daniel ordered, his hand coming down hard on our son’s shoulder.

“Let them go!” I yelled, reaching the edge of the tarmac.

Suddenly, bright headlights cut through the rain from the far side of the airfield.

The high-beam glare blinded me for a second, casting long, erratic shadows across the wet concrete.

Two dark, unmarked SUVs sped through the open gate of the fence line.

Their tires shrieked as they skidded across the tarmac, swerving to block the nose of the charter plane.

Daniel stiffened on the stairs.

The passenger doors of the SUVs swung open before the vehicles had even come to a complete stop.