Chapter 8 - Race Against the ClockThe midnight rain hit my face like buckshot as I burst out of the abandoned industrial warehouse in Queens and dove into my SUV. My hands were bloody, my wrists torn and raw from breaking the zip-ties, but my mind was laser-focused.
I punched the speed-dial on Julian’s encrypted satellite phone, routing it directly through my vehicle's communication system.
"Vanguard Security," a gruff voice answered on the third ring.
"This is Colonel Richard Vance," I commanded, merging onto the highway toward Manhattan at breakneck speed. "Code Red. All active units deploy to St. Mary’s Hospital immediately. Establish a perimeter around the entire facility. No one enters, and no one leaves without my direct authorization."
"Colonel? We heard you were—"
"Do it now, soldier! That's an order!"
I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, the SUV surging forward at over one hundred miles per hour, weaving through midnight traffic like a missile.
My dashboard clock blinked: 1:15 a.m.
David had been at the hospital for over thirty minutes. If Julian’s timeline was correct, he was already inside Emily’s isolation ward.
As I raced across the bridge toward Manhattan, my phone buzzed. It was an incoming transmission from one of my elite security guards stationed outside Emily’s room.
"Colonel!" the guard's voice shouted over the phone, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of gunfire in the background. "We've been compromised! A man disguised as a surgical consultant breached the trauma wing! He’s inside the room with Dr. Mercer's—I mean, with your daughter!"
My heart slammed against my ribs. "Hold the door! Do not let him out of your sight!"
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"We tried, sir! He used a customized electromagnetic pulse device—all our comms and electronic locks just fried! He’s—argh!"
The line went dead with a sickening burst of static.
