Chapter 7 - The Blackout at Saint JudeThe emergency generator kicked in three seconds later, bathing the room in a dull, sickly amber glow.
"That wasn't a power surge," Elena said instantly, her hand dropping from Hannah's arm as she reached into her trench coat and pulled out a heavy, matte-black Walther PPK. "That was a localized grid override."
"How is that possible?" Hannah whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. "This is Saint Jude! There are backups upon backups!"
"Backups can be shut off from the main municipal substation," Elena muttered, her eyes fixed on the heavy mahogany door. "And Arthur Vance still controls the city's electrical board until the federal indictments are processed at midnight."
Outside in the hallway, the sound of shouting erupted—sharp, disciplined, and followed immediately by the dull, sickening thud of a body hitting the wall.
"Stay behind me," Elena ordered, stepping in front of Hannah with the pistol raised, her stance wide and professional.
The door handle turned. Slowly.
Hannah held her breath, her fingers gripping the metal frame of the bed.
The door swung open.
In the dim amber light stood Marco Bell, his suit jacket torn at the shoulder, a dark smear of blood across his cheek. In his right hand, he held a silenced pistol.
"Elena," Marco breathed, lowering his weapon slightly as he saw them. "We've been compromised. Vance's private security detail—men from the Cicero detail—just breached the ground floor. They're cutting the stairwells."
"Where is Damen?" Elena demanded, stepping out into the hallway.
"He went down to the basement to secure the primary server," Marco said, his jaw tight. "Vance left a dead man's switch. If the federal indictments go through at midnight, the server wipes every financial record linking the city council to the West Haven clinic fraud. Damen is stopping the purge."
Elena swore under her breath. "That's a trap. Vance knows Damen would go for the server himself."
Hannah pushed past them both, stepping out into the flickering amber hallway.
"Where are you going?" Marco barked, grabbing her arm—gently, instinctively avoiding the bruises beneath her sleeve.
"My patients," Hannah said, her voice shaking but fiercely resolute. "Mr. Henderson is still hooked up to the backup oxygen line. If they cut the auxiliary power to this floor, he won't last twenty minutes."
Elena exchanged a hard look with Marco. "Go with her. I'll hold the elevator bank."
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Hannah sprinted down the corridor toward Room 402, her worn sneakers pounding against the floor. Marco stayed right on her heels, his pistol sweeping the corners of the ceiling where the security cameras had already been smashed.
They burst into Room 402 just as the amber lights flickered and died completely, plunging the room into absolute darkness.
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