My sweaty hands struggle to steady the wheel as I speed down the road. It's been five minutes, and despite Flint doing his best to keep me talking, I'm beginning to lose the fight. I appreciate his effort. Without it, I might've passed out already. I respond to his questions and remarks on autopilot, hardly able to think before the words leave my mouth. At this rate, we're not going to make it. Glancing at my display, I see that we've got fifteen minutes left. If I floor it, we can potentially make it in half that. Reaching beneath the wheel, I flick a switch to engage my sirens. Personal vehicles must obey traffic laws, but this is an emergency, so I don't hesitate to use this.

The sirens appear on the top of the vehicle, blaring loudly with red and blue lights. The engine revs as we pick up speed, running two red lights across two intersections. The other cars clear the way, allowing me to pass without the need to weave between them. I blink my eyes hard, my breathing becoming irregular. I feel as though I've just run a mile, simultaneously exhausted and lightheaded without moving a muscle. This is the effect of whatever drug has been mixed into the cocktail now flowing through my veins. The Virelith itself is an entirely different story. I cannot feel its effects on me, and that is terrifying. I know that it is affecting my heart, but I feel no different apart from its rapid beating. Eventually, it will cause it to stop. It could be in a minute, or in an hour. There is no way to know.

Only now do I realize my hands are trembling. When is the last time that happened? It's been a long time since I've felt fear like this.

"Almost there, Detective. We'll..." I nod off for a split second, but manage to come back. "W-We'll stop him before he boards."

Flint's voice grows even more concerned. He is clearly worried about me, but refuses to argue. He knows I will not consider heading the the hospital, so he does not bring it up. He goes along with my wishes, helping me plan the arrest.

"I've contacted the precinct, but they're still half an hour away They're dragging their feet since Mr. Collins is still considered the true killer. Local law enforcement wasn't listening in the first place. They insist that we lack proper evidence." He complains, with a huff. "Airport security is just as useless. They were willing to share that his private jet is being prepped, but refused to keep it grounded. We're on our own."

I frown, sharing his frustration. From the get-go, this case has been far too rushed. Almost all of our problems stem from our lack of time! My current condition being no exception. It isn't difficult to build a case against a suspect, even someone as careful as Fabian Reyes, and yet it is. Not to mention that Mr. Collins may have already been processed by now. I hope the Sergeant managed to stall for us...

"Fine by me. We can handle this. Two minutes, and we'll be there." I declare, without a shred of doubt. My mind becomes a little less hazy, as if my words are convincing my body not to give in. "We'll head to the Fixed-Base Operator for private aviation services. We'll make the arrest there."

"Alright." Flint agrees, suppressing the worry in his tone. I'd like to think he actually believes we can do it. My false confidence only goes so far.

I arrive at the airport, getting stopped at the separate entrance to speak with security. The man looks at me with concern, probably due to my flushed face, but thankfully not suspicion. I flash them my badge and they let me through without a second question. Following the signage, I drive my car to a mostly empty parking lot, park it, and hurriedly step out. My legs are shakier than before, but I manage to make my way into the terminal. Another brief encounter with security where I show them my badge, and we're inside.

The terminal is smaller and quieter than the ones in the 'main' airport. Lavish and comfortable lounge areas can be seen throughout. There are people walking around, mostly business executives, the ultra wealthy, a few government officials, and of course, the staff. Scanning for out suspect, I do not see anyone who matches his description. Wasting no time, I approach the nearest concierge desk and speak with the woman behind it. 

"Good afternoon." She greets me with an exaggerated smile. "How can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Detective Claire Bennett, NBPD." I discreetly bring out my badge and show it to her. "I'm looking for a suspect in an ongoing investigation. A man by the name 'Fabian Reyes'. He owns a private jet which is currently being prepared for a flight."

The woman gestures for a security officer to come over, and he walks over to join the conversation. She then types something on her computer, likely pulling up their database. Squinting her eyes, she reads through it while silently mouthing the words. Her eyes meet mine, looking somewhat confused.

"That's odd. Mr. Reyes did indeed request his jet be prepared. I see here in the logs, it was done three hours ago." She turns the screen to show us. "However, he has not checked in yet. His jet will be ready to take flight shortly."

"Detective," The security officer speaks to with a look of doubt. "I apologize for asking this, but it's protocol. You do have a warrant for this man's arrest, correct? I believe we received a call earlier regarding this same man. The answer then was no."

I had been dreading this question. Hoping for a miracle, I pull out my phone to check for a notification from the Sergeant. Sadly, there isn't one. We still lack the documents necessary to get the airport security's cooperation.

"Tell him it's on its way!" Flint suggests. "Try to appeal to him."

"The request for an arrest warrant is still being processed. There were delays." I tell him, growing more nervous as his expression remains stone cold. "Officer, this is an ongoing investigation and, should the suspect board his flight, we will never be able to reach him again."

He shakes his head at me. "I'm sorry, but without the arrest warrant, I cannot help you. The arrest would be unlawful."

"You can't be serious-" I begin, stopping myself before I can get too excited. A wave of dizziness overtakes me, and it takes all I have not to crumble to the floor. The two of them notice this and look at me with great worry. I wipe my forehead, removing the sweat that has been accumulating there. Before they can comment, I hold out a hand to silence them. "I'm fine! I'm...fine. If you're not willing to help, then I will look for him myself. I will not allow this murderer to escape justice..."

Turning around, I am about to walk away when Flint asks me to stop. "Detective, hold on. What if Mr. Fabian didn't come here in the first place?"

"He had to. This is the only airport in the country with flights to Gulliveria. Not to mention, his jet is being prepped." I remind him.

"That's not what I mean. What if this was a diversion? He gets his jet prepped but doesn't board it." He explains, and I slowly catch on to what he's thinking.

"He gets us to waste time here while instead waiting to board a flight at one of the other terminals." I think aloud. "He's planning to fly commercial."

"Exactly. Now, before you storm off, let's see if we can get them to help us a little more. Even if they won't assist with the arrest, we can still ask them for information." He encourages me to try again, being patient as he can tell how drained I am feeling.

"Alright, I will." Turning back around, I find the two of them staring at me curiously. They must be wondering who I was speaking to, but I couldn't care less. I look at the concierge and tap my finger on the top of her monitor. "You can stay out of this if you like, but I require information. That, at least, you should be able to provide."

She glances at the security officer, who shrugs dismissively. He doesn't seem to have a problem with it. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Terminal two is the one with flights to Gulliveria. When is the next one?" I ask, feeling my pulse quickening again. I need to hurry. Before she can respond, I fire off another question. "And, if yes, has our suspect checked in?"

The woman types away, clicking a few times to pull up the information I need. "Yes, it is Terminal two. The next flight is scheduled to take off in thirty minutes. They began boarding ten minutes ago. And..." She pauses as she pulls up something else. "Yes, a 'Mr. Fabian Reyes' did check in. It says here he is on board."

"Damn it!" Flint yells, slamming his fist into something. "We might be too late! How far away is Terminal two?!"

Without answering him, I look at the security officer and ask, "Can you get me over there quickly? I will need a ride."

"I suppose that can be arranged. Follow me." He begins to walk, and I follow close behind. We exit the terminal through one of their restricted access doors and the officer takes me to an area with small transport vehicles for VIPs. He calls over one of them, its driver lowering his window to speak with him. "Get her to Terminal two ASAP. Skip security, she's NBPD."

The man nods, opening the door for me and starting the engine. I enter the vehicle and soon after, we are off. The man drives quickly, getting us there in less than five minutes. Taking the normal way, it would have been much longer and involved a tram. Once there, we are picked up by another security officer who leads us through another restricted access door and we reach our destination. From there, no one follows us. We are left to carry out the rest of our business on our own. 

"Final call for New Brobdingnag Airlines Flight NB001 to New York. All remaining passengers should proceed to gate 16 immediately." A voice announces over the speaker system.

"We need to hurry." Flint urges me.

"Yes, I know." I answer, breaking into a run. As soon as I begin exerting myself, but chest begins to hurt. My feels likes it's about to explode! My vision becomes blurry, and no amount of blinking seems to bring it back to normal. I make my way over to the gate as fast as humanly possible, cutting in front of the last few passengers waiting to board. I lean on the desk, out of breath and barely able to speak. "I- I-I need..." I try, but my voice fails me. I can't seem to speak at this crucial moment! My legs tremble and I brace myself against the desk. The flight attendants as well as many people in the terminal begin to stare as I make a scene. The flight attendants look very worried for me, one of them calling for emergency services. Try as I may, I can't seem to convey what I need to. I feel that I've reached my limit.

"Ma'am, you are having a heart attack. Hold on, help is on the way." Two of them come around to help support me as I lower to the floor. The man puts my arm over his shoulder, and the woman puts her hands on my back to help me balance. As my consciousness begins to fade, I make a desperate and possibly terrible move. Reaching my free hand to my ear, I unlatch my earring and slip it into the breast pocket of her blazer.

The pain in my chest is incredible, and my eyes close, I manage to speak just one, last word. "...Flint."

-----------------------------------------

"Claire! Claire!" I yell, but she doesn't answer. I can no longer see anything from in here, as the flight attendant's clothing totally obscures my vision. I have no clue what's happened to the Detective, but I remind myself that I have bigger things to worry about. While I hope she will be okay, I prepare myself for the worst.

I'm on my own now, in a world that is far too large and hostile. My involvement in this investigation has not been made public. The only reason I've been taken seriously has been because I'm law enforcement. Now, to pretty much everyone around me who does not know this, I am just a Lilli. Worse, I am a Lilli in New Brobdingnag, which is notorious for the kidnapping, torture, and mass killing of unregistered Lillis. They have a name for people like that here: Remnants.

"This is bad. Did she put me here so that I could proceed with the arrest? How the hell am I supposed to do that while trapped in this woman's pocket?!" I yell, equally angry and scared. "If I'm found by the wrong person, I'm doomed. Can I even communicate with anyone?" Just then, I feel the woman beginning to walk. I hear the distinct sound of plane engines soon, which means she must have boarded. They'll be taking off soon. "The moment they take off, my phone becomes useless. No one I call will be able to get to me in time, either! Gahhhh!" I yell, panic creeping in.

I realize that getting angry or scared will do nothing to fix my situation. Taking several long, deep breaths, I calm myself and try to think of a plan. This arrest means a lot to both Claire and I. If it was her final wish, then I will see it through. She wouldn't have put me here if she didn't think I could do it. As much as I hate to say it, she might have had a little too much confidence in me...

"Okay. One step at a time. First, I need to get out of here. Second, I'll assess my options. Third, I'll-" Just then, my phone gets a notification. I am tempted to ignore it in this stressful moment, but thankfully I pull it out to check. My eyes widen in surprise as I see an attachment from Claire's Sergeant. It's not the arrest warrant, but it is still something good. "Investigative Detention. Yeah, that's enough to get him off the flight! That's perfect for-"

"Hmm? What's this?" The giantess whispers. A moment later, I feel the carrier being yanked. Light floods in as she lifts it up to her face, studying it curiously. I wave at her, trying to get her attention, but she isn't looking close enough. Without another word, she begins to walk over to a drawer, which I realize is a trash disposal. 

I dash to the hatch and push it open, allowing me access to the outside. I can't even guess how high up I am, and I don't want to know. Hesitantly, I jump out, falling through the air as the carrier disappears into the drawer without me. My descent is totally uncontrolled, but I try to guide my fall toward her body. At least that way the fall will be a thousand meters instead of nine thousand. I realize too late that the distance I need to overcome is far greater than any jump could manage. I'm not going to make it. 

Then, the drawer shuts, and a gust of wind hits me from behind, propelling me forward a significant distance. It's a close call, but it's enough to propel me toward the woman's shoulder. Just as I get close, the tailwind that had saved me disappeared, and I begin falling again. I reach my arms out, hoping to catch on any loose fibers of her clothing, when I notice a fallen hair. My hands catch it, holding tightly as it bends slightly in response to my weight. Clambering onto it, I make my way over and onto her shoulder, totally unbeknownst to her. I climb higher, until I reach the top where it's flat and safe. 

"That was too close. Any more of this and I'll be in the same boat as the Detective." I pant, clutching my chest. My heart is beating like crazy. I very nearly died! 

Looking around the plane, I can see tons of passengers either crammed into their seats or putting their luggage into the overhead compartments. The flight attendant begins walking through the aisle, toward the back of the plane. That is when I see him. To my left, sitting comfortably in seat 15D, is Mr. Fabian. The man calmly uses his phone while sipping on a glass of complimentary wine. The giantess continues walking, leaving him behind as she moves further back on the plane. She approaches one of the other flight attendants, whispering something to them, before walking back to the front. 

I am so close to ending this. If only I could tell one of these people that I'm hear, I'd show them the document and the Field Air Marshall and they could help me with detainment. Being near the front, I should be close to them. As I understand, they tend to be near the front of the plane. They wear civilian clothes to maintain their undercover appearance. Thankfully, being the man I am, I can generally spot someone trying to be inconspicuous. Looking around, I spot a man who might just be him. There is a man who just strikes me as law enforcement. I can't quite explain it, but it has to do with how he's sitting, like he's too comfortable on this cramped, noisy flight.

I look up at the giantess who's shoulder I'm on and yell up at her one last time. She doesn't react in the slightest, standing there, smiling like flight attendants do. I desperately need her attention. The final checks will be done any minute now, and then they'll take off. A crazy idea comes to mind, and I don't hesitate to act on it. In a way, it's going to be very cathartic! I draw my weapon and run over to the nearest exposed skin, which happens to be just above her neckline, and just beneath her neck scarf. Aiming for an area that has no major blood vessels, I fire at her again and again. It hardly breaks the skin, drawing almost no blood. The first few shots don't do a thing, but after unloading the entire magazine into a relatively small spot, it begins to swell up sort of like a mosquito bite.

"Mm." The giantess quietly moans, trying to look down at the source of the irritation. She cannot bend her neck enough to locate it, so instead she moves a finger there to probe around the area. She rubs around until she feels the spot, at which point her finger rests there for a moment. I jump at the chance and move to it, climbing onto her fingernail before she can remove it. Her finger then moves higher, and I'm met with her huge eyes as they inspect her finger for blood. Instead, they find me, her pupils narrowing as they focus on someone so small. "What the-"

"I really hope you're one of the nice ones, lady." I pray, fear washing over me.

The woman turns and goes over to one of the other flight attendants. "Maggie, you won't believe what I just found." 

She raises her finger into the other giantess' face, and her expression turns to shock. The other leans in to inspect me closer, her eye filling my view. "How in the world did a Remnant get on a plane? Wait, is it...wearing a blazer?"

"Is it? I couldn't tell." The one holding me says, but doesn't bother to check.

"Where did you find it?" Her friend asks, curiously. It's as if she can hardly believe what she's seeing. Irritating as it is, it's not like I am in any position to complain.

"It was here." She says, pointing slightly below the spot where I shot her, closer to her collarbone. Then, her expression turns to disgust. "Eww! Do you think it was climbing on me? What if it went in my clothes?" She shivers.

The other giantess' expression changes to match her friends, but only for a moment. Something isn't sitting right with her, but she doesn't have the confidence to say it. "I don't know, Pat... Are you going to dispose of it?"

To my horror, the giantess nods, moving to the same trash drawer from earlier. She pulls it open.

"No! I'm not a Remnant, you idiot! Just look closer!" I yell at her, then turn to her friend. "You saw me! You know this isn't right!"

My voice goes totally unheard. Even if this flight was dead silent, they still wouldn't hear me. I'm not audible in the first place, unless I'm literally in their ear. I try to cling to her nail, but it proves difficult. The smooth surface doesn't exactly have anything to hold on to. This becomes even worse as the giantess tilts her finger so that I'll fall off. I scramble to create any friction I can, but my body begins to slip. There is nothing I can do to stop her as the nail goes vertical and I fall.

"Wait." Her friend says, quickly stepping over to intervene. She puts out her finger just below me, catching me on her fingertip. I land on it, and then she brings me to her eye for a closer look. Her eyes then widen in realization. "This isn't a Remnant. He's got a gun, and...I think that's a badge? This is an officer!" She uses her free hand to pull out her phone, bringing it up so I can see it. Giant numbers appear before me, the brightness hurting my eyes at such proximity. "Here's my number. If you have a phone, you can call it." She offers. Not ten seconds later, her phone rings, and she answers, putting it on speaker. "H-Hello?"

"My name is Detective Flint Harris, and I'm working with NBPD to track a man who is suspected of murder." I explain, holding back all of the complaints about my treatment until now. It's not the time or place. "I've been separated from my partner, a Brob, and I need your help contacting the Air Marshall. The man I'm tracking is on board. His name is Fabian Reyes, in seat 15D."

The two of them look at each other in disbelief. The one holding me is more surprised than anything, while the other looks positively mortified. They silently nod and call the Air Marshall over to speak with me. Turns out I was right, he was the exact person I'd thought he was. The man is equally surprised when he sees me, doubting my story. For evidence, I send the giantess both a picture of my badge and the document permitting the suspect's Investigative Detainment. The man nods in agreement and proceeds to contact different people on a walkie. I hear the plane's engines go off, followed by him moving in to confront Mr. Fabian. I watch the entire scene play out from atop the giantess' nail, getting a lot of satisfaction as the suspect loudly swears and complains as he is forcibly removed from the plane.

I could be wrong, but I think he spots me on the way out. His eyes narrow in my direction, as he realizes just who tracked him down. Though he can't hear me right now, I can't resist saying:

"Fabian Reyes, you're under arrest for the conspiracy to murder Mr. Robert Harmond."