[b][center][h2]Paige Kennedy & [color=f26522]Milo Ventri[/color][/h2][/center][/b]



There were a few different routes they went over depending on what they found when they reached the island and Paige set off directly for what used to be a civil aviation office. The windows were dark and she approached cautiously with Milo directly behind. The island was still quiet and she could faintly hear the sound of voices on the other side of the building. She leaned against the old cinder block and eased her grip around the door knob. Wind gently buffeted against the structure, chilling her body that was still only covered by her gym clothes from Luna. The island out on the ocean was damn cold. She suppressed a hard chill through her body and exhaled briefly gathering her thoughts. Glancing down at the earth, the swaying pines that bordered the airfield and a few breaks of blue sky through the passing clouds, she brought her pistol up and gently pushed the door away. 


The room was dark, but immediately she could sense the presence of another person. There was no ambush set and instinctively she reached for a light switch as she peered around the corner behind her gunsights. The light came on revealing an empty office. Age-stained white walls with loose paper and trash was scattered around the perimeter. In center, strapped to a chair was the beaten figure of Sammy Giancana, slumped over with only his restraints holding him in place. Blood stained his exquisitely tailored white dress-shirt and slacks and spattered the floor around him, still dripping from his forehead. Barely audible, his breathing was a quiet battle for each remaining breath that he could muster. 

“Shit…” Paige muttered and glanced back momentarily at Milo who stood watching like a sentinel. There were no windows facing them, only a small partition covering a doorway. He assumed the corridor led to a repair bay or a hangar of some kind, but it was the only way someone could come at them head on. He stepped to the side shifting his glance between Paige and a better angle to keep a lookout behind them. 

“[color=f26522]Is he alive?[/color]” Milo asked.

Paige felt for a pulse. Her touch seem to startle what nerves still functioned in his broken face. Like Nikki, Sammy also kept his head cleanly shaven, but so pulverized was his visage, that Paige visibly winced at the sight of him. He looked as if he’d been hit by a train: Eyes were nearly swollen shut as he strained to lift his head and look at her through the sting of blood and sweat. His head bobbed involuntarily as though it wasn’t fully attached to the rest of his body, but still he beheld her carefully, completely focused with the faint life that still existed in his consciousness. Studying her fallen blonde lockes and small frame, he managed the tiniest of smiles and his voice exited in a whisper:

“[i]Shannon…[/i]”

Paige pulled away at the sound of his wife’s name wiping his blood on her shorts and stepping back. Milo cut his glance at her strangely, never seeing her appear so spooked. “[color=f26522]What did he say?[/color]”

As soon as the words exited his lips the sound of a small turbine could be heard spooling up outside. He’d spent enough time around machinery, aircraft included, to know the characteristic high-pitched whine of the small engine used to begin the startup procedures. He stowed the inquiry away and knew whatever it was that bothered Paige would have wait. “[color=f26522]We need to get moving.[/color]”

Paige looked at Sammy and knew she would have to make a choice. He would be worth an untold fortune of information if they could keep him alive long enough to get back to Sol and in a hospital. If he would talk, they would have more than what they needed to take Nikki down without any red tape or bureaucracy. With Sammy under oath there would be direct connections and irrefutable evidence and she would have unquestioned support in bringing Nikki in, [i]a slam-dunk[/i]. Or she could do what she and Milo planned to do: walk out on that tarmac and put an end to it without any witnesses. As she turned to Milo a figure burst through the far corridor who as she snapped her focus back, immediately recognized as the man from Luna Sports Facility. He leveled a large caliber revolver in her direction, similar to the ones that Milo fashioned and opened fire. 

Falling away, Paige could hear the sonic rush of a bullet fly past her ear as the deep blast of the revolver echoed through the small room like cannonfire. He was aiming for the head. She cracked off two shots from the hip as she dove away, but his volley was suddenly silenced as Milo opened up spraying the corridor with fully automatic fire. The man ducked away with the piercing sound of Milo’s suppressed AK that quickly ventilated the old structure with small holes. The smell of cordite filled the room and short pause followed the exchange. Paige wasn’t sure if either one of them had connected. She knew she wasn’t hit and it appeared the man hadn’t even counted on Milo’s sudden barrage, but as she got back on her feet a different sound slowly eased through the room. The sound of something metallic rolling against the wood floor. Her eyes quickly found the object, close enough that she could see the small military logo on rotating along the side a olive drab cylinder:[i] a grenade[/i].