The terminal hummed with the ordinary music of a thousand lives crossing paths, but Odin heard something else. The German Shepherd's ears went flat against his skull, his body freezing mid-stride like a statue carved from muscle and fur. Liam Beckett felt the shift through the leash before he saw the target — a woman in a beige coat, her hand wrapped around the handle of a cream-colored suitcase, her face too pale for someone pretending to be calm.

A sharp, muffled THWACK-THWACK-THWACK echoed from the ceiling grates.

Two high-velocity, armor-piercing rounds shattered the glass skylight above, slamming directly into the chest of the Air Marshal standing near the perimeter. He dropped without a sound.

"Sniper! Down!" Liam roared, grabbing the woman by her harness and dragging her behind a concrete baggage counter as a hail of suppressed gunfire chewed through the tile floor where they had been standing seconds before.

Odin stayed low, keeping close to Liam’s left flank, his ears back, his teeth bared toward the upper catwalks overlooking the concourse.

Through the shattered skylight, three men dressed in unmarked black tactical suits rappelled down on steel cables, landing silently on the polished terminal floor. They carried shortened carbines fitted with thermal optics and suppressors.

They weren't here to rescue the woman. They were here to clean up the mess.

"They're burning the asset!" Liam shouted to Vance, who had taken cover behind a stainless steel check-in podium, returning fire with his pistol.

One of the black-clad operatives raised his rifle, aiming directly at the cream suitcase and the blinking cylinder sitting in the open concourse.

"Odin, attack!" Liam commanded.

The German Shepherd didn't hesitate. He burst out from behind the counter like a cannon shot, low to the ground, taking advantage of the fallen luggage for cover. He closed the thirty-foot gap in two seconds, leaping through the air and clamping his jaws onto the lead shooter's rifle arm before the man could pull the trigger.

The shooter screamed as Odin's crushing bite tore through Kevlar and flesh, dragging the operative to the ground. The weapon clattered across the floor.

Liam moved right behind his dog. He vaulted over the baggage counter, pulled his sidearm, and fired two controlled shots into the second operative's center mass. The man collapsed instantly.

The third operative whirled toward Liam, but Vance fired three rounds from behind the podium, dropping him onto his back.

The terminal went quiet again, save for the wail of the sirens and the heavy breathing of the three survivors.

Liam sprinted to the suitcase. The digital timer on the cylinder had been jarred by a stray bullet hitting the outer casing:

00:45... 00:44... 00:43...