[ WP ] You get off an airplane expecting to see your brother standing there waiting for you . Instead you find a large man in a suit holding a card with your name on it .

I stepped out of the Jetway and searched the terminal with eager eyes. I had n't seen my brother in almost a year, since before I went off to college. 
 
 I straightened my back and slung my duffel bag around my left shoulder. I wanted to look independent and strong, as if my time away had somehow changed me. 
 
 But there was no sign of my brother anywhere. Disappointed, I slumped forward and ambled toward the waiting chairs. 
 
 `` Mr. Sanders?'' 
 
 I looked to my right. A large man, dressed in a full tuxedo, stood with one shoulder resting against a pillar. In his other arm he held a giant card with my name on it -- *Louis Sanders. * 
 
 A slow-moving chill crept down my spine. I had never seen this man before. `` Yes?'' I asked with a mild hint of trepidation. 
 
 A tight smile formed on the man's face. He pushed himself off the pillar and walked toward me. `` My name is Mr. White. Your brother could n't make it today. But he asked me to come pick you up.'' 
 
 Something did n't seem right. I knew that my brother liked to hang out with shady people, but... something about this man rubbed me in the wrong direction. I shook my head. `` No, thank you.'' 
 
 His smile disappeared. `` That was n't a fucking question.'' He marched toward me. 
 
 Scared shitless, I whipped around to call out for help -- but everyone had already left the terminal. 
 
 The man grabbed my arm, and swung a full-forced fist directly to my cheek. 
 
 I felt the impact of the punch ripple across my face, shutting off my nervous system in the process. My consciousness slowly began to ebb away... 
 
 A gunshot sounded, followed by a light thud, and the man suddenly released his grip on me. I felt myself falling backward. Everything seemed to slow down, and through my fading vision I could see a familiar form sprinting towards me. 
 
 `` Gotcha,'' my brother said. He reached his arms out and caught me right before my body hit the floor. 
 
 The sound of his voice made me come to. I blinked a couple of times and stared in awe at the suited man, now lying in a puddle of blood. 
 
 `` No time to explain,'' my brother said. He grabbed my hand and ran away from the scene, towards baggage claim. 
 
 He was such a quick runner that I struggled to keep up with him. Out of breath, I was about to ask for a quick timeout when five TSA agents and seven fully armed police offers poured out in front of us. 
 
 `` Shit, turn left!'' My brother yelled. He planted his feet on the ground and bolted towards Terminal 2C. I followed suit without thinking twice. 
 
 We were running straight for a giant glass window. When we got within 20 yards, my brother pulled out a pistol and shot a full round at the glass, sending shards everywhere. 
 
 `` Crazy bastard,'' I whispered to myself. 
 
 He jumped out onto the tarmac and motioned for me to follow. I landed hard on my knees, scraping them pretty badly. 
 
 `` So how's your first year of College?'' My brother asked as we sprinted across the airport grounds. Bullets whizzed by us left and right, striking the tarmac with a heavy thud. 
 
 I shook my head. `` I... should... have... gone to... Mom's,'' I said between breaths. 
 
 My brother laughed. `` But we have such good fun together!'' He stuck his hand out and tussled my hair as we made our way toward the treeline about a hundred yards away. 

