The old man was halfway through his meal when the boy dropped to his knees in front of him

The passenger door of the dark sedan swung open, and a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit stepped onto the pavement, his eyes scanning the outdoor seating area with cold, practiced efficiency.

“Move, now,” Arthur muttered, grabbing the back of Julian’s jacket and hauling the boy to his feet while scooping the shivering little boy, Toby, into his left arm with a surge of adrenaline he hadn't felt in decades.

Maya grabbed the edge of Julian’s shirt, her small feet stumbling over the cobblestones as Arthur led them toward the rear exit of the café through the kitchen service doors.

“Hey! You can't go back there!” a chef shouted, dropping a stack of stainless-steel bowls as Arthur shoved past him with surprising force.

“Send the bill to Arthur Vance!” the old man barked back over his shoulder, kicking the swinging kitchen door open with his newly healed boot.

They spilled out into a narrow, dimly lit alley reeking of rotting vegetables and damp cardboard. The cool night air hit Arthur’s face like a physical blow, but his heart hammered a frantic, triumphant rhythm against his ribs. He was walking. Every step sent sharp needles of pain shooting up his calves, but he didn't care. He was moving forward.

“This way!” Julian yelled, pointing toward a rusted iron staircase that led up to the second-story fire escape of an adjoining warehouse.

“Are you insane? Maya can't climb that,” Arthur argued, shifting Toby higher onto his hip as the toddler clutched his neck in terror.

“She has to! They're coming around the front!” Julian insisted, already lifting his younger sister and shoving her toward the lower rungs of the ladder.

From the front of the alley came the heavy thud of leather shoes hitting pavement and a sharp, authoritative voice shouting into a radio comms unit. “Sector four, target spotted at the rear courtyard. Cut off all exits.”

Arthur gritted his teeth, thrusting Toby back into Julian’s arms. “Take the children up first. I'll cover the base of the ladder.”

“Mr. Vance, your legs—you can't fight them,” Julian protested, looking down at the old man's trembling knees.

“I didn't survive a head-on collision with a semi-truck just to get cornered by corporate thugs in a garbage alley,” Arthur growled, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, long-dormant fury. “Go! Now!”

Julian didn't argue further. He boosted Maya up the iron rungs, hauled himself and the sleeping infant up behind her with frantic strength, and pulled Toby up by his wrists just as two bulky figures in dark suits rounded the corner of the alley entrance.

“Freeze! Federal authority!” the lead agent shouted, reaching inside his jacket for what was clearly not a badge.

Arthur didn't freeze. Remembering an old iron pipe leaning against the overflowing dumpster beside him, he kicked the base of the bin with his right heel, sending a rolling wave of glass bottles crashing across the pavement right into the path of the advancing agents.

The lead agent slipped hard on a cascade of broken wine bottles, crashing heavily onto his knee with a sharp curse. The second agent drew his weapon, leveling it directly at Arthur’s chest in the gloom of the alley.

“Step away from the ladder, old man, or you're dead where you stand,” the second agent snarled, his finger tightening on the trigger guard.

Arthur stood tall, his legs shaking violently beneath his trousers, but his gaze remained unflinching. “You're a little late for corporate takeovers, gentlemen. My assets have already been transferred.”

Before the agent could pull the trigger, a heavy metal fire extinguisher came hurtling down from the landing above, crashing squarely onto the agent’s shoulder and knocking him sideways into the brick wall.