"Get back to your station!"
A sharp, grating voice cut through the noise of the concourse.
Striding over with an aggressive scowl in a slate-gray uniform and an orange supervisor vest was Brenda Vance, the chief terminal floor manager. Brenda looked down at the seated man with undisguised disgust.
"You're on the clock, not handing out handouts," Brenda snapped, glaring at Tommy.
Tommy stayed kneeling, gesturing gently to the weak man: "He needs help, ma'am. He's dehydrated and shivering."
Brenda pointed a manicured finger directly at Tommy's employee pass.
"Leave your badge. You're done. Surrender your pass at the office and leave the building immediately."
Tommy looked at the elderly man, who was watching with pained eyes, then stood up slowly. He unclipped his yellow vest and lanyard, holding his head high without an ounce of regret.
"I couldn't leave him."