Chapter 7 - THE INTRUDER IN THE NURSERY"Lock down the wing!" Daniel roared into the phone, terror seizing his entire body with a ferocity he had never experienced in any boardroom. "Hit the panic alarms! I’m twenty minutes away!"
"I already hit them, sir, but the control panel is locked out!" Mrs. Gable cried, the sound of breaking glass echoing in the background. "They’re using an override code! They’re—oh god, they’re inside the room!"
The call disconnected with a sharp hiss of static.
"Drive!" Daniel screamed at the federal driver waiting outside the Institute doors, practically ripping the passenger door of the SUV open before Emily could even catch up. "Step on it! My son is in the house!"
The SUV tires screeched against the asphalt, throwing up a cloud of dust as they launched into the night toward the Mercer estate.
Inside the sprawling mansion, darkness reigned. The power had been deliberately cut, plunging the corridors into deep, eerie shadows illuminated only by the red glow of emergency exit signs.
In the second-floor nursery, six-year-old Noah woke up shivering.
The room was pitch black. The hum of his medical machines was gone.
"Mrs. Gable?" Noah whispered, pulling the heavy wool blanket up to his chin. He reached for his aluminum crutches leaning against the bedside table, his fingers brushing the cool metal.
The heavy oak door of the nursery clicked open.
A tall figure stepped into the room, silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through the arched windows. The intruder wore a black tactical turtleneck and dark gloves, holding a small, sleek medical syringe in one hand.
"Well, well," a smooth, chilling voice whispered. It wasn't Julian Harrison. It was Victor Vance—Julian’s chief legal enforcer and the nephew of the corrupt federal judge. "The little miracle child who wouldn't stay in his chair."
Noah froze, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Who are you? Where's my dad?"
"Your dad is currently learning a very expensive lesson about staying out of grown-up business," Victor smiled coldly, stepping toward the bed. "And you, young man, are going to take a nice, long nap while we relocate you to a private facility where you won't be causing any more trouble for our patents."
Victor reached out, grabbing Noah’s thin wrist.
Noah let out a sharp gasp of pain. "Let go of me!"
"Shut up, kid," Victor snarled, raising the syringe toward Noah’s arm.
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Suddenly, the bedroom door swung violently off its hinges with a thunderous crash.
"Get your hands away from my son!"
