Chapter 2 - The Shift in the Terminal
An icy silence descended upon Gate C18 as the echo of the name Harold Grant seemed to vibrate through the air.
Shift manager Steven Vance stood frozen, his eyes bulging as he stared at the sleek black smartphone in the old man's trembling grip.
That wasn't just any device; it bore the gold-embossed seal of Global Aviation Holdings, the conglomerate owning thirty major airports across North America.
Ethan stayed on his knees, his hands still supporting the frail elder's back, completely unaware of the magnitude of what was transpiring.
"Did you just say Harold Grant?" Steven stammered, his pompous demeanor evaporating as a cold sweat broke out on his neck.
"You're lying! Harold Grant is in a private sanctuary in Aspen, recovering from heart surgery! This is some cheap trick!"
The old man did not raise his voice, nor did he offer any desperate explanation to defend his honor.
He simply held the black phone to his ear, his pale face calm despite the deep lines of exhaustion carved into his skin.
"Clear the C-concourse security perimeter immediately," Harold spoke softly into the receiver, his tone radiating absolute, unquestioned command.
"And bring police escort to Gate C18. I have an administrative matter to resolve before my private flight departs."
Within ninety seconds, the distant wail of terminal emergency sirens echoed through the polished corridors of the airport.
Distressed passengers backed away from the gate counter, whipping out their phones to record the chaotic scene unfolding before them.
Four airport executives dressed in tailored charcoal suits came sprinting down the hallway, led by Terminal Director Gerald Vance—Steven’s father.
Gerald was breathless, his face pale as chalk as he shoved past the crowd of onlookers to reach the scene.
The moment Gerald’s eyes landed on the frail old man sitting on the cold floor, his knees buckled, nearly sending him sprawling.
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"Mr. Grant!" Gerald gasped, dropping straight to the polished floor with zero regard for his expensive designer suit.
"Sir! We had no idea you were arriving unannounced on a commercial transport flight from Denver!"
