Chapter 3: The Flight into the Dark
Nathan’s instincts, honed by years of ruthless corporate warfare, instantly shifted into survival mode.
He lunged into the ICU room, grabbing Maisie in one arm. With his other hand, he ripped the IV lines and monitor leads off Rowan. The baby let out a sharp, startled cry.
"Shh, baby, shh," Maisie whispered through her tears, trying to cover her brother's mouth with her tiny hand. "Don't cry, Rowan. The bad men are here."
"We have to go. Now," Nathan muttered.
He couldn't use the main elevators; they would be trapped. He pushed open the heavy fire exit door at the back of the ward, carrying both children down the concrete stairwell. The sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the landing above them. The men were following.
"Nathan," Maisie whimpered, her face buried in his shoulder. "I'm scared."
"I've got you," Nathan whispered, his heart pounding like a war drum. "Hold onto Rowan. Don't let him go."
They reached the basement level—a labyrinth of laundry chutes, steam pipes, and industrial generators. Nathan navigated the dark corridors, his dress shoes slipping on the damp concrete. He could hear the walkie-talkies of the pursuers crackling in the distance.
“Target has the children. He’s in the basement. Eliminate the assets. Make it look like a tragic kidnapping gone wrong.”
The words chilled Nathan to the bone. Eliminate the assets. His own mother had ordered the execution of her own grandchildren to protect her secrets.
Nathan spotted a heavy metal door marked Emergency Exit - Alarmed. If he pushed it, the alarms would scream, but it was his only way out into the cold night.
He didn't hesitate. He threw his shoulder against the bar.
The door flew open, and a deafening siren filled the night air. Nathan burst out into a narrow alleyway behind the hospital. Rain was beginning to fall, turning the autumn air freezing. He ran toward the street, his lungs burning, his arms aching from the weight of the two children.
A black SUV pulled up to the curb, its tires screeching.
Nathan braced himself to fight, but the passenger door swung open.
"Get in!" a woman screamed.
It was Sarah. Julian's former assistant.
Nathan scrambled into the backseat, pulling Maisie and Rowan with him. Sarah slammed her foot on the gas, and the SUV roared away just as the two armed men burst out of the hospital alley, firing silenced rounds that shattered the SUV's rear window.
"Are you okay?" Sarah gasped, looking at them through the rearview mirror as she sped through the rain-slicked streets of the city.
"We're alive," Nathan panted, wrapping his ruined jacket tighter around Rowan, who was shivering. "Where are we going?"
"A safe house Julian kept in the mountains," Sarah said, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. "But we have a bigger problem, Nathan. Your mother just released a statement to the press. She has framed you."
Sarah turned on the car radio. A news anchor’s voice filled the cabin:
"...breaking news tonight. Nathan Fisher, CEO of Fisher Enterprises, has reportedly suffered a severe psychotic break. Police are actively searching for Fisher, who is wanted for the violent abduction of two homeless children from St. Jude's Pediatric Ward. Authorities warn that Fisher is armed, extremely unstable, and may pose a direct threat to the children's lives..."
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Nathan stared at the radio in disbelief.
"She's turning the whole country against me," he whispered. "If the police find us... they won't arrest me. They'll shoot to protect the children."
