Chapter 9 - The Target on Oliver’s Hospital Room Window
Sebastian rolled back into his chair with fluid speed, the moment of vulnerability vanishing behind an impenetrable mask of cold steel.
“Escort Dr. Vance to the medical suite,” Sebastian commanded. “And bring Marco to the terrace. Do not let him near the residential wing.”
Clare stood up, smoothing her clothes, her heart hammering against her ribs. “What does Marco want?”
“He wants to smell fear,” Sebastian said, checking the sleek semi-automatic pistol concealed inside his desk drawer. “Stay with Oliver, Clare. Lock the door from the inside.”
Clare ran down the corridor to the residential wing, where Oliver was sitting on his bed, drawing pictures with colored pencils. Dr. Vance, an elderly, distinguished physician, was reviewing his vitals.
“How is he, Doctor?” Clare asked, wrapping her arms around her son’s shoulders.
“His pulmonary markers are exceptional, Ms. Bennett,” Dr. Vance smiled warmly. “The new medication has cleared the interstitial fluid by seventy percent. We can perform the definitive corrective procedure on Monday.”
Before Clare could reply, the lights in the room flickered once, then died completely.
The emergency red backup lights hummed to life.
A high-pitched alarm sounded through the ceiling speakers.
Security breach. Sub-level four compromised.
Dr. Vance looked around nervously. “What is that?”
Clare’s instincts flared. She moved Oliver away from the large glass window overlooking the terrace. “Get under the bed, Oliver. Now. Do not make a sound.”
“Mom, what’s happening?” Oliver’s voice trembled.
“It’s a game of hide-and-seek, baby. Remember what Sebastian told you about staying quiet during a strategic maneuver?”
Oliver nodded bravely and slid beneath the heavy wooden frame.
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Suddenly, the reinforced glass window shattered inward in an explosion of crystalline shards.
A man in black tactical gear swung into the room from a rappelling line, a silenced submachine gun raised toward the bed.
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