The next chapter uncovers secrets that have been buried for years.

-6-

The emergency backup lights cast a sickly, pulsing red glow across the sterile white walls of the medical suite. Outside in the main hallway, the muffled sound of gunfire echoed through the ventilation shafts—sharp, suppressed pops followed by the heavy thud of combat boots and shouted commands.

I clutched sleeping Ethan tightly against my chest, his little body stirring slightly at the distant concussions before settling back into the heavy, medicated sleep induced by Dr. Arispe’s sedative. My hands shook uncontrollably, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins kept the terror at bay, replaced by a fierce, primal instinct to protect the child in my arms.

Victor stood near the sliding steel door of the medical suite, peering through the reinforced glass observation slit into the hallway. His pistol was raised, his body balanced on the balls of his feet like a coiled spring ready to strike.

“Three men in tactical gear moving down the west corridor,” Victor whispered over his shoulder, his voice completely calm amidst the chaos. “They’re bypassing the security grid using Dante’s internal override codes. They’re heading straight for the vault to get Serena out.”

“Can we make it to the panic room elevator?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Not through the hallway,” Victor replied grimly, keeping his eyes fixed on the corridor. “The west corridor is compromised. But there’s a service shaft behind the supply closet that connects directly to the sub-level.”

Before Victor could move toward the supply closet, the heavy steel door of the medical suite shuddered violently as a heavy explosive charge slapped against the exterior locking mechanism.

“Get down!” Victor shouted, grabbing my arm and shoving me and Ethan behind the heavy stainless steel surgical table just as the charge detonated.

BOOM!

The steel door blew inward in a cloud of acrid smoke, twisted metal shrapnel ricocheting off the walls and shattering the medical monitors into a million glass fragments. Through the billowing smoke, two heavily armed mercenaries wearing black tactical gear and night-vision goggles swarmed through the breach, their automatic rifles raised and sweeping the room.

“Clear!” the first mercenary barked, stepping into the room.

He didn't get to take a second step.

Victor rose from behind the surgical table like a ghost from the underworld. Two silent, suppressed shots cracked through the smoke. The lead mercenary dropped instantly, a clean round piercing his ceramic vest plate. The second mercenary swung his rifle toward Victor, but before he could squeeze the trigger, Victor closed the distance with terrifying speed, slamming the butt of his pistol into the man’s temple and sending him crashing unconscious to the floor.

It had taken less than three seconds.

Victor didn't hesitate. He grabbed my arm, pulling me up from behind the table. “Move! Now!”

We bolted through the ruined doorway into the smoke-filled hallway, stepping over the fallen mercenaries. The air tasted of sulfur and burning copper. As we rounded the corner toward the service shaft, a heavy voice echoed from the shadows at the end of the hall.

“Well, well, well,” Dante Vance drawled, stepping out from the shadows near the grand staircase. He held a customized SIG Sauer pistol loosely in his right hand, a smug, arrogant grin spread across his face, flanked by four more armed enforcers. “Look what the cat dragged in. The great Victor Blackwood, running for his life like a whipped dog—with his precious little nanny and a bastard baby in tow.”

Victor stopped dead in his tracks, pushing me gently behind his broad shoulders, his pistol locked dead onto Dante’s chest.