The child writhed under his hold, gasping for air. Then he bit him.
"FUCK!" he swore loudly, almost blowing their cover.
Two pairs of eyes drilled holes into him. He froze up, instantly regretting his mistake. The burn of the child's bite marks faded, as did the harsh glare by his boss.
"Meet me at my place. Leave that," the child was pointed at, "with Jeremy back at the loft."
The two men watched as their boss fixed his tie and stepped out into the party, or what was left of it before it was officially called off. They drove out of the crowded parking lot with the child sleeping soundly in a crib, passed out from the chloral hydrate. In a few hours time, the operation would begin.
