Chapter 7 - THE HOSPITAL THREATBefore the local police could establish a proper perimeter around our wing, the atmosphere in the hospital changed with terrifying speed. The soft hum of the air conditioning was broken by the sharp, synchronized clack of leather shoes on tile flooring.
Men in dark, tailored suits began casually stationing themselves at every exit, elevator bank, and stairwell. They didn't look like patients or visitors; they moved with the lethal, unbothered precision of trained operatives. Marcus had found us faster than anyone had anticipated.
Realizing we were trapped, Nurse Clara didn't hesitate. Risking her career and her life, she grabbed a set of medical scrubs and motioned for me to follow her. Together, pushing a laundry cart loaded with extra linens and hiding Lucas and Lily beneath a false bottom of thick blankets, she smuggled us down through the labyrinthine service elevators into the subterranean laundry loading bay.
An unmarked federal SUV was idling near the loading dock, its engine purring softly in the damp Chicago air. As we slid into the back seat, I looked out the tinted window and saw three men in dark suits burst through the loading bay doors, searching frantically. But our driver slammed on the gas, tires screeching against the pavement as we vanished into the morning fog, leaving them far behind.
