Chapter 84 - Cry of the Sovereign Born
Ethan’s fingers crushed the edges of the heavy parchment.
The air in the sterile hallway suddenly felt paper-thin, suffocating. He looked at Marcus, his closest brother-in-arms, the man who had taken bullets for him in Zurich, who had stood beside him in every boardroom and back-alley battle for a decade.
Marcus noticed the sudden change in Ethan’s posture. His hand drifted naturally toward his weapon belt. "Ethan? What does the note say?"
Ethan carefully closed the titanium briefcase, keeping his eyes fixed on Marcus’s face, searching for any flicker of deceit, any microscopic sign of betrayal. "It says my father has the antigen for the toxin that caused Olivia’s hemorrhage. And he wants a meeting."
Marcus’s eyebrows knit together in genuine confusion. "A meeting? Where? We need to set up a containment perimeter, bring in tactical support—"
"No support," Ethan interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "He said if I bring a single gun, he destroys the remaining doses."
"Ethan, this is a textbook extraction trap," Marcus said, stepping closer, his voice rising with urgent concern. "Think about it! Charles vanishes six years ago, letting you take the fall for the family's collapse, letting Victoria tear your life apart for years. Now, the moment Victoria is locked away and you reclaim the estate, he emerges from the grave demanding you come alone? It doesn't make sense!"
"Nothing about the last forty-eight hours makes sense, Marcus," Ethan said coldly, walking toward the glass window of the nursery.
Inside the incubator, his newborn daughter stretched her tiny hands into the warm air. She was so innocent, completely unaware that she had been born into a warzone, that the blood running through her veins carried the weight of a multi-billion-dollar empire soaked in generational sin.
"Have Thorne run an immediate gas chromatography test on the liquid in this vial," Ethan ordered, setting the briefcase on the nurses' counter. "If it's the antidote, I want it prepped for Olivia within twenty minutes. But keep half a milliliter in reserve. If it’s poison, I need to know before I leave this hospital."
"You're not actually going to Red Hook alone," Marcus insisted, following him. "That is suicide."
"I am going to do whatever it takes to ensure my wife wakes up and my daughter grows up with parents," Ethan snarled, turning on Marcus with a gaze so lethal the veteran soldier instinctively stepped back. "Prepare the decoy vehicle. Load the armored Mercedes with standard transponders. But I’m taking the underground tunnel exit on the utility motorcycle."
Before Marcus could argue further, the facility’s overhead fluorescent lights flickered violently.
A low, deep hum resonated through the concrete foundation of the private hospital. The rhythmic drone of the backup generators abruptly choked, died, and plunged the corridor into pitch-black darkness.
For two terrifying seconds, there was only silence.
Then, the red emergency auxiliary lights hummed to life, bathing the entire subterranean floor in a sinister, bloody glow.
The intercom crackled with frantic static. *"Security desk! We have an unscheduled entry at the subterranean parking level! Heavy vehicles... they've rammed the security gates! They're cutting the power grid—"*
A burst of automatic gunfire cut the security guard off. The sickening sound of bodies hitting the floor echoed through the open speaker before the feed died completely.
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Marcus drew his Glock, racking the slide with a metallic snap. "They didn't wait for 0300 hours. They’re here to finish the job."
***
