Chapter 3 - The Blackout in Ward 4
The double doors of St. Jude’s emergency service entrance were hanging off their hinges, shattered by a sledgehammer.
Rain whipped through the dark, unlit hallway. The sound of the hum of backup generators echoed faintly from the basement, casting flickering red emergency lights across the quiet linoleum floors.
Anika dropped into a low tactical crouch, moving down the dark corridor with the silence of a hunting cat. Adrian followed two paces behind her, holding a heavy Glock 17 drawn from Marcus's tactical kit, his movements surprisingly sharp and disciplined for a billionaire CEO.
"Fourth floor," Anika whispered, pointing toward the emergency stairwell. "Pediatric and adult ICU."
They moved up the concrete stairs three steps at a time.
As they reached the fourth-floor landing, the metallic smell of blood hit their noses.
Lying near the nurses' station was a hospital security guard, unconscious, a zip-tie securing his hands behind his back.
Anika ran to the guard, checking his carotid pulse. "He's alive. Heavy blunt force trauma to the jaw. Professional work."
She stood up, her weapon raised, sweeping the dark hallway.
At the far end of the corridor, outside Room 408—Leo’s room—two tall men in dark tactical gear stood guarding the door. Both wore the telltale dark blue woven leather cuffs on their left wrists.
One of them held a large black duffel bag containing a portable medical ventilator and a silent lethal injection kit.
"Clear the room," the first man instructed into his earpiece. "Administer the potassium chloride, make it look like a ventilator failure due to the power outage, and dump the server files."
"Copy that," the second man replied, reaching for the handle of Room 408.
Anika didn't wait for Adrian's command.
She broke cover, sprinting down the red-lit hallway like an arrow released from a bow.
"Contact!" the first assassin roared, raising his suppressed submachine gun.
Anika slid across the wet linoleum floor on her side, passing beneath the line of fire.
THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!
Suppressed rounds tore through the ceiling tiles above her head, showering paper dust and plaster down over her shoulders.
Anika raised her Sig Sauer mid-slide and fired two round bursts.
BANG! BANG!
The first round struck the shooter’s knee, shattering his patella. The second round caught him in the right collarbone, spinning him around before he crashed into a laundry cart.
The second assassin dropped his duffel bag, drawing a heavy combat knife and lunging at Anika as she came out of her slide.
He swung the blade downward in a lethal reverse grip toward her neck.
Adrian materialized out of the dark shadows like a phantom.
He caught the assassin’s wrist mid-air, utilizing an advanced Krav Maga joint lock he had trained in for years. He twisted the man’s arm viciously behind his back, driving his shoulder into the assassin's spine with a brutal, heavy thud.
CRACK!
The assassin screamed as his shoulder dislocated. Adrian didn't let go; he drove the man's face directly into the steel frame of Room 408’s door, knocking him completely unconscious.
The second assassin hit the floor, motionless.
Anika shoved open the door of Room 408.
"Leo!" she cried out softly.
Inside the quiet room, illuminated only by the faint red glow of an emergency battery monitor, lay her nineteen-year-old brother, Leo.
He was pale, thin, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath a heavy blanket. A heart monitor beeped weakly in the corner: 52 beats per minute.
Anika dropped her gun, running to the side of the bed. She threw her arms around her brother’s chest, pressing her face against his shoulder, tears finally streaming freely down her face.
"I’m here, Leo... I’m here, baby brother... you're safe..." she sobbed, holding his limp hand tightly against her cheek.
Adrian stepped into the room, lowering his weapon.
He looked at the brave, fierce girl who had single-handedly taken down nine elite mercenaries over two hours to protect the people she loved. He felt a profound, overwhelming ache in his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced since his own mother died when he was twelve years old.
He walked over to the bed, standing beside her, placing a warm, broad hand gently on her shoulder.
"He's going to live, Anika," Adrian promised softly, his voice filled with an absolute, unshakeable solemnity. "I'm having my personal medical transport fly him to the Johns Hopkins Private Surgical Wing tonight under twenty-four-hour armed guard. The best neurosurgeons in the world will operate on his spine by tomorrow morning."
Anika raised her head, looking up at him through her tears. "Why are you doing this for us, Vale? You don't owe me anything."
"You saved my life twice tonight, Anika," Adrian said gently, his thumb lightly stroking her shoulder. "And your brother took a bullet—and a car—to bring me the truth about my father. You are family now."
Suddenly, Leo’s fingers twitched inside Anika's hand.
Anika gasped, freezing. "Leo?"
The nineteen-year-old boy opened his eyelids slowly, his dark eyes unfocused, bloodshot, flickering in the faint red light of the ICU.
"Ani..." Leo rasped, his voice barely a whisper, dry as paper.
"I'm here, Leo! Don't move!" Anika sobbed, leaning in close to his mouth.
"The... the package..." Leo gasped, struggling to speak through his oxygen mask. "In... in my jacket lining... at home..."
Adrian leaned down, his face inches from the boy's. "What package, Leo?"
"The... the real drive..." Leo whispered, his breathing shallow. "Julian... Julian tried to buy it from me... before the crash... I hid the flash drive inside... inside Mom's prayer altar..."
Leo’s eyes drifted shut again as the heavy sedatives pulled him back into unconsciousness, his heart monitor returning to a steady, rhythmic beep.
Anika looked up at Adrian, her tears drying instantly, replaced by a deadly, blazing fire.
"My mother’s house," Anika said softly. "The drive is still there."
Adrian checked his watch. "It’s two in the morning. If Julian knows Leo survived tonight, he’s sending his entire force to your mother's house right now."
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Anika stood up, racking her gun slide with a sharp, lethal CLICK.
"Then let's go give my step-family a warm welcome."
