Chapter 12 - A Mother’s Second Heartbeat
By 10:00 p.m., against every medical recommendation, Santino was back at the Newport estate.
He sat in the private study, dressed in a black wool sweater that concealed his surgical bindings, his right arm resting in a supportive sling. Beside him stood Caitlyn, her face set in stone, reviewing the logistics data on the Warwick industrial yard.
"Moretti has barricaded himself inside the main warehouse with eighteen surviving soldiers," Rossi reported, laying out architectural blueprints on the desk. "Corvo is with him. They know they're trapped; they've fortified the perimeter with automatic weapons."
"A frontal assault will turn the yard into a slaughterhouse," Caitlyn said, her finger tracing a thin blue line along the rear of the schematic. "What is this?"
Santino leaned in close, his shoulder pressing warmly against hers. "That is an old industrial drainage canal connected to Narragansett Bay. It was used in the 1920s to pump cooling water into the brass foundry."
"Is it navigable?" Caitlyn asked.
"For small tactical zodiacs, yes," Santino replied, a spark of realization igniting in his slate eyes. "We bypass the front gate entirely. We insert twelve men through the sub-floor intake while the main convoy creates a distraction at the main gate."
Santino looked at Rossi. "Deploy the strike team under Captain Bruno. Give Moretti ten minutes to surrender. If he refuses... flood the lower level with tear gas and breach the perimeter."
Rossi nodded and hurried from the room to coordinate the assault.
Caitlyn turned to Santino, her eyes filled with concern. "You aren't going."
"I don't need to be there to pull the trigger, Caterina," Santino said softly, reaching out with his uninjured left hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "A king does not fight in the mud when his army has already won the field. My place is here. With you."
Before Caitlyn could speak, the red emergency phone on the desk rang—the direct line to the private medical wing.
Caitlyn grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Ferraro," the lead nephrologist’s voice came through the line, breathless with excitement. "You need to come to the medical suite immediately."
Caitlyn and Santino walked quickly down the western corridor to the clinical annex.
Helen was sitting up in bed, surrounded by three physicians and two surgical coordinators who were reviewing a set of digital donor manifests transmitted from Massachusetts General Hospital.
"What's happening?" Caitlyn asked, her heart racing.
The lead surgeon smiled—a broad, triumphant smile. "A perfect six-antigen donor match has just become available in Boston. A twenty-two-year-old donor who was a registered organ donor. The tissue crossmatch is a hundred percent compatible with your mother’s blood chemistry."
Caitlyn froze, her hands flying to her mouth. "A... a transplant?"
"The organ is currently being transported under police escort down Interstate 95," the surgeon continued. "The surgical team at Rhode Island Hospital is prepped. We can perform the kidney transplant at two in the morning."
Caitlyn turned toward Santino, her eyes wide with shock and overwhelming joy. "How... how did she get to the top of the New England donor registry? We didn't have legal status until four days ago!"
Santino looked at her with a gentle, enigmatic smile.
"When I filed our marriage certificate in Providence," Santino said quietly, "I established the Helen Marchetti Organ Recovery Trust with a five-million-dollar endowment to Massachusetts General Hospital. It didn't buy her a kidney, Caterina. But it ensured that the moment a legitimate, perfectly matched donor became available in New England, her name was processed through the national computer without bureaucratic delay."
Caitlyn threw her arms around Santino’s neck, burying her face in the curve of his shoulder, weeping with pure, unadulterated gratitude.
"Thank you," she whispered against his skin. "Thank you... thank you..."
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Santino wrapped his strong left arm around her waist, holding her close against his chest, kissing her hair as the rain washed the windows clean.
"You gave me my life on that bridge, Caterina," Santino murmured. "I gave your mother hers. Now let's go put an end to the monsters who made you run."
