Chapter 26 - Lockdown at Walter Reed
The armored Suburban tore down George Washington Memorial Parkway at over one hundred miles per hour, tires screaming against the slick asphalt as sirens wailed into the dead of night.
"Call ahead!" Evelyn screamed, her hands white on the steering wheel while General Holloway frantically keyed the encrypted SATCOM unit on the center console. "Tell the ICU team to physically sever the main power cables to Richard's suite! Rip the damn plugs out of the wall!"
"I can't get through!" Holloway shouted, slamming his fist against the dashboard. "The entire medical wing has gone into an automated bio-containment lockdown! They're claiming a localized anthrax leak on Floor 4! All comms are jammed!"
Evelyn pressed the pedal to the floorboard. The heavy V8 engine roared, pushing the two-ton vehicle past civilian traffic like a black missile. Through the windshield, the monolithic concrete towers of Walter Reed National Military Medical Center loomed through the rain, bathed in flashing crimson emergency beacons.
They didn't slow down for the security barricades.
The Suburban’s reinforced steel push-bar smashed through the hydraulic road spikes and splintered the wooden guard gate in an explosive shower of debris. Evelyn slammed the brakes, sliding the vehicle sideways into the main entrance courtyard, leaving black tire marks across the pristine concrete.
Before the vehicle had completely stopped, Evelyn kicked her door open, her M4 carbine raised, tactical lights slicing through the blinding rain.
The lobby was in absolute chaos. Sirens blared in deafening cycles; automated fire doors were sliding shut, sealing off the elevator banks. Hospital staff and patients were being herded toward the subterranean fallout shelters by private security contractors wearing black unmarked vests—the same Meridian mercenaries Vance had commanded at Arlington.
"Clear the hall!" Evelyn bellowed, firing two warning rounds into the reinforced ceiling tiles.
The crowd scattered in panicked screams. Two Meridian gunmen stationed at the central security station drew their sidearms, but Evelyn moved with lethal speed. She double-tapped the first guard in the upper thoracic cavity, spinning him over the information desk, then pivoted, driving the butt of her rifle into the second man's nose before he could acquire a target.
"Holloway! The stairwell!" she shouted.
They took the stairs four at a time, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete. On the fourth floor, the air smelled of burnt wiring and chemical disinfectant. The heavy blast doors leading to the Intensive Care Unit were locked down, but through the wire-reinforced glass, Evelyn saw a terrifying scene.
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Three men in surgical scrubs were standing over Richard’s bed. They weren't checking monitors. One of them was holding an industrial-grade neuro-infusion cannula, preparing to drive it directly into Richard’s IV central line, while the other two held silenced pistols trained on the terrified nursing staff huddled in the corner.
***
