Chapter 7 - The Race Against TimePanic erupted in the Red Door Club.
Enzo was at their side in a fraction of a second, his tactical training kicking in instantly. He scooped Caleb up into a fireman's carry with brutal efficiency, ignoring the mob boss's strangled protests.
"Clear the exit!" Enzo roared to his men as he sprinted toward the private rear doors, Rachel running right beside them, her high heels clicking frantically against the concrete.
They piled into the back of the armored SUV. Enzo slammed the door shut, and the driver peeled out into the rainy Chicago night, tires screaming against the pavement.
In the back seat, Caleb was convulsing, his eyes rolling back as the lethal neurotoxin began to shut down his nervous system. His breathing became shallow and ragged.
"He's going into cardiac arrest," Rachel yelled above the roar of the engine. She ripped off her diamond bracelet, tossed it aside, and reached into her small clutch, pulling out an emergency pre-loaded syringe of sodium thiosulfate and epinephrine she had started carrying with her ever since the hospital break-in.
"Hold him still!" she commanded Enzo.
Enzo pinned Caleb’s thrashing shoulders against the leather seat with iron strength.
Rachel yanked open Caleb’s tuxedo shirt, exposing his chest. Without hesitation, she slammed the needle directly into his central IV port, pushing the antidote with desperate precision.
"Come on, you stubborn bastard," Rachel panted, pressing her hands over his chest and starting immediate chest compressions.
One, two, three, four...
Caleb’s eyes locked onto hers for a fraction of a second, filled with a terrifying, hollow darkness. Then, his body went completely limp.
The heart monitor app on Enzo’s secure tablet flatlined. A long, continuous tone filled the cabin of the speeding SUV.
"No pulse," Enzo said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, chilling quiet.
"Not again," Rachel cried out, tears of frustration mixing with the rain streaming down her face from when they left the club. "You survived three bullets! You are not dying in the back of a car!"
She locked her hands over his sternum again, driving her full weight downward with every ounce of strength she possessed.
Crack.
A rib broke beneath her hands, but she didn't stop. She compressed again, her arms burning, her mind racing through emergency toxicology protocols.
"Fifty seconds," Enzo counted softly, watching the digital clock on the dashboard with dead eyes. "Forty seconds out from the safehouse medical bay."
"We won't make it!" Rachel screamed, leaning down to tilt Caleb's chin, pinching his nose, and breathing a hard rescue breath into his lungs before slamming her hands back onto his chest.
"Breathe, Caleb! Breathe!"
Thirty seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Ten seconds.
Suddenly, Caleb’s chest convulsed violently beneath her hands. A sharp gasp tore from his throat, followed by a violent cough as black fluid purged from his mouth.
Beep.
Beep.
The monitor flickered back to life. A weak, erratic rhythm, but it was there.
Rachel collapsed backward against the opposite seat, gasping for air, her emerald dress ruined with sweat and blood. She looked over at Caleb, who was staring up at the roof of the SUV, breathing heavily, alive against all mathematical probability.
May you like
Enzo let out a slow breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He picked up his encrypted phone, his eyes flashing with lethal intent.
"Find Victor Vance," Enzo whispered into the receiver. "Burn his warehouses to the ground. Every single one of them. Tonight."
