TEMPEST AT THE TERMINAL

Back with Ethan and Rudeus, the tension was palpable as they quickly devised their next move. The night was deepening, and the city lights flickered in the distance. "We need to get to the airport," Ethan said, determination hardening his young features.

Rudeus nodded, adjusting his cap. "But how? We can't risk using the car; they'll be looking for us."

Ethan thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "I know a place. There's a mechanic I trust, not too far from here. He owes me a favor. We can get a new ride, something they won't recognize."

Rudeus grinned. "Smart thinking, kid. Lead the way."

They moved swiftly through the alleys, avoiding the main streets. The mechanic's shop was in a rundown part of town, but the lights were still on. Ethan knocked on the door, and after a few tense moments, it creaked open to reveal a burly man with grease-stained hands.

"Ethan? What the hell are you doing here this late?" the mechanic asked, bewildered.

"No time to explain, Tony. We need a car. Something fast and untraceable," Ethan replied urgently.

Tony raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Alright, come in. I got just the thing."

He led them to the back, where an old but well-maintained muscle car sat. "This baby will get you where you need to go. Just bring it back in one piece."

Ethan and Rudeus exchanged a grateful look. "Thanks, Tony. We'll owe you big time."

With their new ride, they sped through the city, heading towards the airport. The streets were quieter now, the night deepening. Rudeus glanced at Ethan, who was staring ahead with a fierce determination. "You got a plan once we get there?" Rudeus asked.

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. We need to find Mr. White and Mrs. Thompson. They're the key. If we can stop them, we can save my mom and everyone else."

Rudeus tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Alright kid, let's do this"

At the airport, the night was alive with activity. Planes taxied on the runways, and the terminals buzzed with travelers. But amidst the normal hustle and bustle, a darker plan was unfolding. Mrs. Thompson stood near a large window overlooking the tarmac, her eyes fixed on the plane she knew Clara was boarding.

Mr. White stood beside her, his briefcase now containing the tools necessary for their grim task. "Everything is in place," he said. "As soon as the plane takes off, it will be too late."

Mrs. Thompson smirked, a cold satisfaction in her eyes. "Good. I want to see it happen."

Clara stood in the bustling airport, surrounded by the hum of announcements and the chatter of travelers. She met with her crew, exchanging pleasantries and discussing the upcoming project. The energy in the airport was electric, with the anticipation of new adventures. Clara found a moment to herself and sat down, opening her bag to retrieve a family picture. Her fingers traced over the faces of Dick and Ethan, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hey there, you two," she whispered. "I know you're worried, but don't. I'll be gone for three weeks, and then I'll be back. Just hold your horses." She wiped her tears and decided to call home. Her phone buzzed with countless missed calls. Her heart raced when she saw that Dick and Rudeus had called multiple times. She tried calling them back, but there was no answer. "Hope all is well," she muttered, anxiety creeping in.

Just then, a flight announcement echoed through the terminal, calling passengers to board her flight. She hesitated, feeling a knot in her stomach, but she picked up her luggage and moved towards the boarding gate.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Rudeus arrived at the airport, the evening sky dimming to night. They hurried out of the car, Ethan with a determined look on his face. Rudeus questioned, "Wait...you said you had a plan. Are you just gonna tell the flight attendants and the pilot that there's a bomb on the plane? We don't even know which plane it is, or where the bomb might be!"

Ethan shook his head, "No, no, that'd be stupid." He thought to himself, *Thank God I ditched Plan A.* He turned to Rudeus,remember I said we need to find Thompson ? Well change of plans "We need to find my mom first. She can't be far."

Rudeus sighed, "Look for her? There are like a thousand people here. It's going to be hard."

Ethan looked up, resolute. "Even if there were billions, I can still find and recognize my mom." They both agreed to split up and search. Ethan, weaving through the crowd, scanned faces frantically. *If I could just get a clue,* he thought. Suddenly, he overheard someone mention "Atlas Project." He saw a woman on the phone, presumably part of Clara's group. He followed her discreetly and finally spotted his mom among a group, preparing to board.

His relief was short-lived. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a man in a white suit—Mr. White—without his briefcase this time. Ethan's steps faltered. *Oh no...it's him.*

The air grew tense as they locked eyes. Mr. White pulled out a knife, and Ethan's heart pounded. Just as Mr. White advanced, Rudeus tackled him from the side, breaking the tension. Ethan's surroundings snapped back into focus, with the usual airport noise returning. Rudeus yelled, "GO ETHAN, GO!"

Ethan sprinted towards Clara while Rudeus faced off with Mr. White. The spectacle caught people's attention, but Mr. White, unfazed, cracked his neck and prepared to fight. And then rudeus mockingly said, "Alright, let's do this...whatever your name is."

Rudeus, clearly outmatched, took a defensive stance. In the twinkle of an eye, Mr. White lunged, slamming Rudeus to the floor. A nearby woman screamed, drawing Ethan's attention back. He saw Rudeus in trouble and yelled, "Come on, just 10 seconds!"

As Mr. White raised his knife, security guards arrived, guns drawn. "Freeze!" they shouted. Mr. White smirked, "You're the ones to freeze." Suddenly, more hitmen appeared, and gunfire erupted. Chaos ensued as people scrambled for cover.

Clara, just about to board, heard the commotion. The suspicious attendant reassured them, "Don't worry, it's probably just fireworks. Please, let's board the plane." But he knew the truth.

Ethan, still running, encountered a familiar face—the hitman from the warehouse. "Well, well, well...if it isn't Ethan the brat. You escaped last time, but not now." The hitman revealed a timer showing two minutes before the bomb exploded.

Ethan's heart raced as he realized the stakes. *I need to get past him,* he thought, desperately searching for a solution. The hitman smirked, confident in his upper hand.