Chapter 3 - The Bellevue Breach
"Mr. Blackwood?"
Tyler’s voice broke Ethan out of his paralysis. The boy was standing at the edge of the living room, holding the wet plastic bag. "Is something wrong?"
"We need to go," Ethan said, his voice clipping like a military order. He grabbed his coat, his boots, and his car keys.
"Go where?" Ryan asked. "To see Mom?"
"Yes," Ethan said, his mind racing. "But we aren't taking the elevator. We’re taking the service stairs."
If Julian Vance knew about the boys, the lobby of his building was already compromised. Ethan’s private security team was good, but Julian’s pockets were deep enough to buy the building's management.
Ten minutes later, Ethan’s armored SUV roared out of the basement parking garage, slicing through the torrential Manhattan rain. The windshield wipers threw sheets of water aside as Ethan navigated the slick, dark streets toward Bellevue Hospital. In the backseat, the twins sat in silence, their eyes fixed on the back of his head.
"Why are we taking the back streets?" Tyler asked, his voice sharp with an intelligence that made Ethan uneasy. "The GPS says FDR Drive is faster."
"FDR is flooded," Ethan lied. The truth was, he had spotted a black Mercedes SUV tailing them the moment they pulled out of the garage.
As they neared Bellevue, Ethan’s phone rang again. This time, it was his head of security, Marcus.
"Boss, we’ve got a situation," Marcus said, his voice tight. "A sweep of your penthouse’s external servers shows a high-frequency data tap. Someone didn't just hack your security camera; they cloned the feed. They knew the boys arrived at your door three minutes before you opened it."
"Julian," Ethan muttered. "He’s trying to force my hand before the market opens tomorrow. Marcus, I need a medical team at Bellevue. Not the hospital staff. Our people. Dr. Chen’s private oncology team. I want them in Clara Thorne’s room ten minutes ago."
"I'm on it, but Ethan—the hospital is under lock and key. There’s a police presence in the oncology ward. They’re claiming Clara Thorne is a suspect in a high-profile corporate theft case."
Ethan slammed his hand against the steering wheel. Julian was framing Clara to keep her isolated, preventing any independent medical testing that could link her—and the boys—to Ethan.
"I don't care," Ethan growled. "Get Chen there. I’m five minutes away."
He threw the SUV into a hard left turn, tires screaming against the wet asphalt. Behind him, the black Mercedes did the same, matching his speed.
"Hang on," Ethan told the boys, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.
He didn't pull up to the main entrance of Bellevue. Instead, he drove straight toward the ambulance bay, ignoring the flashing red "DO NOT ENTER" signs. The black Mercedes accelerated, trying to cut him off, but Ethan rammed the front bumper of his SUV into the side of the Mercedes, sending it spinning across the slick concrete of the bay.
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"Get out!" Ethan yelled, throwing his door open.
He grabbed both boys by their jackets, pulling them through the rain and into the sliding glass doors of the emergency room just as two men in dark suits stepped out of the wrecked Mercedes.
