They were on William in a heartbeat, pushing him on top of the bed with his arm twisted behind his back, rushing over to point their guns at Steven’s head. They even moved in on Lily, guns drawn.

None were dressed in black.

“Mr. Martin, are you alright?” asked a nervous man, considerably smaller than his gun-toting companions, quickly shutting the door.

“Holy crap, Phil!” Quincy smacked his hands together. “My God, it worked! I could kiss you. For Christ sake, put the guns down. Bob, Tommy, come on. Guns down. Richie, loosen up on the redhead. Let go. That’s an order.”

William felt it, the rush inside him. A match scratched across stone. An automatic reaction that he wanted this man off him, for the pain of his twisted arm to stop.

He twisted his head around to Lily, who had sat up and was focusing her eyes on the man holding him down.

No, Lily. No!

He watched her flinch for a moment, and then go back to being just a frightened little girl.

“Hey guys, I’m serious.” Quincy snapped his fingers. “Guns down! Let him up.”

“Mr. Martin, we have to go,” said the fidgeting man at the door.

“Everybody chill out right now,” Quincy said. “I appreciate the cavalry, but enough. You found me, I’m safe, I’m fine. Look at me, OK? I’m not in danger. Not by these people. Get it? Drop the weapons.”

“Mr. Martin, please. Our car is waiting outside.”

“Phil, you’re my damn assistant, not the director of my security team. That’s you, Richie. So loosen up on Will there, let him go.”

“We’ve got our orders, Mr. Martin,” grunted the man holding William. “The board is displeased.”

“Your orders come from me, Richie.” Quincy’s face was turning red now. “And you followed protocol. As soon as I got money out of that ATM account, you knew to track it. And it worked. But I’m altering whatever plans you’ve been given. We need a car and a plane big enough for all of us.”

“Get him out, fellas,” the man ordered.

Their guns still focused on Lily and Steven, the men moved towards Quincy, motioning to him to follow.

“Hey, you don’t make the decisions here. I’m the one whose initial is on the plane, remember? Phil, like I said, we need a car for all of us—”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Martin, but that’s not our orders. We’re bringing you in to safety. The board is really concerned. The stocks have tanked since you disappeared—”

“The board?” Quincy roared. “You can go back and tell those jack offs that I call the shots. And I’m not going anywhere without this crew. Richie, you don’t understand—”