Chapter 11 - RACE TO MERCY GENERAL
The sirens of the city ambulances wailed in the distance as Lara drove the sedan recklessly toward Mercy General Hospital.
Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel.
Beside her in the back seat, Grace was sliding tiny lines of code into her micro-tablet.
"What are you doing?" Lara asked, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
"Disabling the hospital's internal security feed in sector four," Grace replied without looking up.
"Viviana thinks she controls the building."
"She doesn't know my father installed a private biomedical monitoring network that only I can access."
"Is he alive?" Lara asked, her voice cracking with fear.
"His heart rate dropped ten minutes ago," Grace said, her fingers flying across the keys.
"But he’s fighting. Just like me."
The black sedan screeched into the ambulance bay of Mercy General Hospital, tires smoking against the asphalt.
Lara threw the car into park and leaped out.
They rushed through the automatic sliding doors into the chaotic emergency lobby.
Nurses and doctors hurried back and forth past flashing monitors.
"Third floor, intensive care unit," Grace directed, leading the way toward the private elevators.
"The public stairs are blocked by Viviana's security guards."
They slipped into a staff-only service elevator, using a security override code Grace punched into the panel.
The elevator surged upward, the digital floor numbers ticking past.
*Floor 1... Floor 2... Floor 3.*
The doors slid open with a soft chime.
The third-floor hallway was eerily quiet.
The overhead fluorescent lights flickered with a low, irritating hum.
Not a single nurse or doctor was in sight.
Viviana had cleared the entire floor.
Lara pulled a heavy metal wrench she had grabbed from the car trunk out of her apron pocket.
She crept down the corridor, her footsteps entirely silent against the linoleum floor.
Grace followed closely behind, her small face set in a mask of cold determination.
They reached Room 304.
The door was cracked open just an inch.
Inside, the steady, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor echoed through the gap.
*Beep... beep... beep...*
Lara peered through the opening.
Damian Hollis lay motionless in the hospital bed, pale tubes running into his arms, his chest bandaged heavily.
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Standing beside the bed, dressed in a crisp white nurse’s uniform, was Viviana Sloane.
Her back was turned to the door, her hands holding a syringe filled with clear liquid.
