“Per 12(b), that’s a credible release risk. Open it up now!” I shouted at Allen—and while he might’ve been used to otherrough dockworkers shouting at him, he was clearly not expecting it from a blonde half-siren, especially followed by apush.
I wasn’t supposed to push people.
I was never supposed to take anyone’s autonomy away—it was covered under the same codicils at work as live rounds and wetwork.
But I’dseenthem in my mind. Women and men—and suddenly I was glad we’d acted now, because whatever had happened to them, making them wait another minute to be saved was torture.
“Okay, okay!” he shouted back, already in the act of opening the box. “I gotta be official!”
He took a picture of the box’s seal with his work phone, used a key from a keyring to pop a lock over one of the levers, then unlatched two of them, swinging the door open toward him in a wide arc—and he was in a nominally better position to see in than I was.
“Motherfucker,” he whispered—that was all I needed to know. “How?” He started in, then followed it with “What!” as he stepped back, lifting his walkie to shout at someone.
I didn’t hesitate—I stepped inside, and found thirteen people on the ground, lying side by side, wearing hospital gowns. I threw an arm over my face—there certainly was a noxious smell inside here; they were covered in their own waste—and the entire box shuddered as the door slammed shut behind me.
13 /NEX
Royce’s chair scraped back.“Why is my daughter inside a box?”
“Because there are people in it,” I said. “And because she is herself.”
Camera six caught the cargo door slam. No one was touching it.
It wasn’t a gust.
It was a trap.
“Where are my comms?” Royce shouted, standing so fast his chair went over behind him.
“Inside the box: silent. Outside: clean.” I split the wall—map left; eight camera feeds right; agents on live cams; docks on passive—then I ticked them off by distance.
Aceon:Two hundred ten meters.
Ellum:Eighty-five, moving.
Kelly:Sixty flat, already angling.
Lung:High; no straight shot.
Royce:Too far.
Me:Everywhere except inside.
They’d seen it too. Sirena was gone from view, gone from contact, sealed and now moving as a yard-tow picked up the end of the dolly her box was on.
Every single one of us moved at once.
Footage blurred as feeds stuttered—position data snapping red—hauling asswas a technical understatement.
Ellum dropped a shoulder, bracing.
Aceon ran like his hooves were built for panic zones.
Kelly didn’t shout, didn’t ask—he sprinted, his head tucked beneath his arm.
Lung started to descend.
But we were all late.
