“On three,” Dr. Aris whispered, putting his hand on the doorknob. “We run for the recovery room, lock ourselves in, and call the police from the internal landline.”
I nodded, tightening my sneakers, preparing to sprint for my son’s life.
“One… two… three!”
Dr. Aris threw the closet door open. We burst out into the blood-red hallway.
But we didn’t even make it three steps.
Standing at the end of the corridor, blocking the path to the recovery room, was Carlos. He wasn’t alone. Flanking him were two large, imposing men in dark, identical tailored suits. They didn’t look like common thugs; they looked like corporate security, clear earpieces glinting under the emergency lights.
Carlos looked at me, his eyes dead and unblinking. Then, his gaze shifted to Dr. Aris, and finally, to the plastic biohazard bag in the doctor’s hand.
A cruel, mocking smile spread across Carlos’s face.
“Doctor,” Carlos said smoothly, stepping forward as the two men stepped with him. “I believe you have some proprietary company property in your hand. I’m going to ask you to hand it over. Along with my son.”
“Stay back!” Dr. Aris yelled, stepping in front of me defensively. “I’ve already transmitted the ultrasound data to an offsite medical server! The police know everything!”
Carlos stopped walking. He tilted his head, his smile widening into something genuinely demonic. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, sleek black device with a single digital screen.
“You mean this data?” Carlos held up the device. The screen showed a progress bar that read: UPSTREAM DATA INTERCEPTED – 100% PURGED.
“I own the network in this district, doctor,” Carlos whispered, his voice chillingly calm. “No data leaves this building. No one is coming to save you. And as for my son…”
Carlos looked past us, toward the heavy wooden door of the recovery room just a few yards behind us.
Suddenly, from inside the recovery room, a sharp, agonizing scream pierced the silence.
It was Daniel. But he wasn’t crying from pain.
“Mommy! Help me! There’s someone else in here! Mommy!”
My heart shattered. I turned my head toward the recovery room door, but before I could run toward it, Carlos’s two security guards drew silenced pistols from beneath their jackets and pointed them directly at my chest.
“Now, Elena,” Carlos said, taking a slow step toward me, his hand outstretched. “Let’s do this the easy way. Or the hard way.”
What did Carlos really inject into Daniel? Who is inside the recovery room with the little boy? Find out in Part 3!
