3. The Slap Heard 'Round the Terminal

Zeus tossed the stolen ring into the air and caught it with a satisfying clink. He didn't even look at the pickpocket as he gestured lazily with his chin toward the squad car.

​"Mike, quit daydreaming and arrest our 'high-stakes' thief. Eric, you're on snack duty. Go buy another pack of ice cream......the premium kind this time. My kids have expensive taste."

Eric's face fell faster than a lead weight. "But Chief... I literally don't have any money left! You're holding my grocery budget for the month!"

​Zeus didn't skip a beat, his gaze shifting to Mike. "Then you go. Buy it."

​As Zeus turned to walk toward his car, Mike's restraint finally snapped. "This is not fair!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the injustice of it all. "First my engagement ring, and now I have to pay for the ice cream too? This is highway robbery!"

Eric's eyes went wide as saucers. He lunged for Mike, trying to clap a hand over his mouth before the words fully registered. "Shut up! Just shut up, you idiot!"

​But it was too late. The air suddenly felt five degrees colder. Zeus Brooklyn stopped in his tracks, his hand on the door handle of his car. He slowly turned his head back, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous, suspicious glint.

​"What... do you mean... too?" Zeus asked, his voice dropping into that low, silky tone that usually preceded a massive disciplinary hearing.

​The two officers froze like deer in headlights, the pickpocket watching the drama unfold with more interest than a soap opera. Just as Zeus was about to dismantle their lie piece by piece, a sharp, rhythmic buzzing cut through the silence.

*bzzzzzzzzzz*

Zeus reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The moment he saw the caller ID.....THE COMMISSIONER.....his playful malice vanished, replaced by the sharp focus of a predator.

​"Hello? Yes, Sir," Zeus said, his voice instantly professional. "Understood. I'll be there in minutes."

​He clicked the phone shut and gave his subordinates one last, lingering look that promised a very long conversation later. "We will talk about 'fairness' when I get back. Don't let that thief lose any more dentures."

​Without another word, he vaulted into his signature black porsche. The engine roared to life with a growl that echoed off the alley walls, and with a screech of tires, he tore away into the city traffic.

​******

Hospital

The roar of the black porsche had barely faded in the parking lot before Zeus was sprinting through the sterile, white corridors. The smell of antiseptic replaced the humid city air, and the frantic energy of the alleyway was replaced by a heavy, suffocating wait.

​At the end of the hall, a small group stood near the heavy double doors of the Operating Theater.

​"Daddy!"

​Three-year-old Grace broke away from his grandmother's side, his small face lighting up as he hurtled toward his father. Zeus dropped to one knee, catching the boy in a tight embrace, his heart hammering against his ribs. Four-year-old Sakura followed at a slower pace, clutching a stuffed rabbit.

​"How are you, my little warriors?" Zeus murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he stroked Grace's hair and pulled Sakura into the huddle. He kissed their foreheads, but his eyes were already scanning the hallway for the one person who wasn't there.

Sakura looked up, her lower lip trembling into a tiny, heart-breaking pout. "I want to see Papa. Why is Papa in the room with the bright lights?"

Zeus's throat tightened. He stood up, keeping a steadying hand on his daughter's shoulder, and looked at the man standing stoically by the wall.

​The Commissioner, Mr. Kazuhiko Hinata......a man known for his iron grip on the city's police force......looked smaller here. He wasn't just a superior officer today.....he was a father watching his own son fight a battle no one could help him with.

​"Dad," Zeus's voice was low, stripped of all its usual bravado. "How's Ayase?"

​The weight of the question hung in the air. This was their third child, a joy they had looked forward to, but the doctors had been grave. Ayase's health had taken a sudden, critical turn, and the emergency call hadn't been about any case.....it was about family.

​The Commissioner looked at Zeus, his eyes reflecting a shared, deep-seated fear. "He is still in the OT. The doctors said his vitals were fluctuating. We... we have to wait, Zeus."

Zeus turned his gaze toward the Occupied sign above the theater doors. Inside that room was the man who was his anchor, the brilliant, gentle soul who kept him grounded.

Zeus remembers very well the day when he met Ayase. It was a beautiful winter evening and Zeus, as usual, was trying to catch some criminals at the airport with his team.

...◇◇◇◇◇...

Flashback

The winter wind howled through the sliding glass doors, but the tension inside the terminal was even colder. Zeus Brooklyn stood in the center of the lobby, his leather jacket slightly parted to reveal his badge, his gun leveled with a steadiness that was borderline insulting to the man on the other end.

​A frantic criminal had his arm hooked around a young man's throat, a jagged pocketknife pressed against the hostage's skin. The hostage was pale, wearing a thick scarf and looking like he'd just stepped off a flight from a much quieter part of the world.

​"Back off, officers! I mean it!" the criminal barked, his eyes darting toward Mike and Eric, who were moving into flanking positions. "One more step and the tourist gets it! You know the consequences!"

​Zeus didn't move. The blue light on his wireless earphone blinked rhythmically, a tiny spark of tech in the middle of the chaos. He didn't look like a negotiator......he looked like a man waiting for a bus.

​"Then kill him," Zeus said flatly.

​The criminal's jaw dropped. The hostage boy blinked behind his glasses, his expression shifting from terror to genuine offense.

​"What...!?" the criminal stammered, tightening his grip. "Did you just say.....?"

​"My job is to catch you, dead or alive," Zeus interrupted, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "If you kill him, you lose your shield. Then it's much easier for me to put a bullet between your eyes without worrying about the paperwork for a civilian injury. It's actually a win-win for me."

​The criminal's forehead began to bead with sweat despite the drafty terminal. "I am not joking, officer! I will definitely slit his throat!"

​"Go ahead! Do it!" Zeus checked his watch with a theatrical sigh. "And don't waste my time. It's freezing out here and my shift is almost over. I need a beer to warm my senses, and you're standing between me and a cold pint of lager."

​"What the hell are you talking about?!" the criminal screamed in pure frustration. This wasn't how the movies went. The hero was supposed to beg for the hostage's life, not complain about beer.

​Zeus narrowed his eyes, his gaze flickering toward the young man. "Killing tourists is a crime anyway. But since you insist on being difficult, I guess I'll just have to do this the hard way."

​Underneath the scarf, that boy's eyes narrowed. He looked at Zeus.....the arrogant, beer-obsessed officer.....and then at the trembling criminal holding him. In that moment, the boy seemed less afraid of the knife and more annoyed by the rescue team.

​"Officer," the boy spoke up for the first time, his voice surprisingly calm and melodic despite the blade at his neck. "If you're quite finished deciding whether my life is worth a beer... could we perhaps wrap this up? I have a library to visit."

​Zeus's smirk widened.

Interesting, he thought.

This one has some spine.

While the criminal was busy spiraling into a mid-life crisis over Zeus's lack of empathy, the air around the hostage shifted. The boy's posture, previously limp, suddenly turned into a coiled spring.

​In a blur of motion that defied the laws of winter coats, that boy grabbed the criminal's wrist, twisted it with a sickening crack, and used the man's own momentum to flip him over his shoulder. Before the thief could even hit the tile, the knife was spinning across the floor.

​Zeus stood frozen, his gun still raised but forgotten. He wasn't looking at the criminal groaning on the floor.....he was watching the way the boy adjusted his glasses and straightened his scarf with a terrifying, graceful poise. The way he moved was like water.....lethal, beautiful water.

​"What are you looking at, Chief?" Mike whispered, nudging Zeus in the ribs.

​Zeus's eyes were blown wide, a slow, dazed grin spreading across his face. "Did you see that? He's trying to seduce me."

​Eric rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw his own brain. "Oh, c'mon, Chief. He didn't even look at you. He's currently busy being his own hero."

​"He saw me," Zeus said confidently, his voice dropping into a dreamy register. "But you both didn't see what I saw. That was a love letter in martial arts form."

​Zeus holstered his gun and strutted forward, smoothing back his hair. He reached the young man and held out a hand with his most charming.....Officer of the Year.....smile. "Nice move. Really impressive. Hi! I'm the Chief of the Department, Zeus Brookl....."

​SMACK!

​The sound of the slap echoed through the entire terminal, silencing the distant announcements. Zeus's head snapped to the side.

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