Chapter 12 - The Life After the FuneralOne year later, Saint Gabriel Medical Center had a new name.
Quietly at first.
No public announcement.
No panic.
Fire crews entered through underground service corridors while nurses moved critical patients away from oxygen-dependent areas.
Elena helped evacuate the pediatric wing.
A little boy recovering from appendicitis clung to her arm.
“Is there a fire?”
“Not yet.”
“That's not comforting.”
“You sound like my mother.”
He smiled.
She pushed his wheelchair faster.
Dante refused to leave.
Of course he did.
Marco threatened to wheel him out unconscious.
Dante threatened to shoot the tires.
Eventually Maria settled it.
“You survived two bullets and death itself. Don't make your mother kill you.”
Dante allowed himself to be transferred.
Mostly.
They moved him to a reinforced ambulance in a protected loading zone.
But when Elena reached the emergency entrance, alarms exploded.
Fire doors slammed shut.
Half the building lost power.
Then an explosion shook the western tower.
Windows shattered.
Patients screamed.
Smoke poured through the corridor.
“Elena!”
Marco appeared.
“Where's Dante?”
“Ambulance!”
“No.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What?”
“The ambulance is empty.”
Dante had disappeared.
A message arrived on Elena's phone.
FROM DANTE:
Lang has Mercer. Going down.
She screamed in frustration.
Marco read it.
“I am actually going to kill him myself.”
“Get in line.”
They ran toward the basement.
Dante had discovered Mercer missing after the first explosion.
Security footage showed Lang's men pulling the doctor into the old B4 corridor.
Dante followed.
Bleeding through his surgical dressing.
Unarmed.
Alone.
“Why would Lang take Mercer?” Elena asked.
“Biometric system,” Marco said. “Mercer helped design medical identity protocols. Maybe he can bypass encryption.”
They reached B4.
Smoke hung low.
Sprinklers poured water.
Emergency lights flashed red.
A voice echoed from the old surgery room.
“Dante!”
Elena stopped.
Lang.
Marco raised his weapon.
They moved quietly.
Through cracked glass, Elena saw Dante seated on the floor.
Mercer tied nearby.
Stephen Lang stood behind them holding a pistol.
Two armed men guarded the door.
Lang held a tablet.
“Your blood opens it,” he said.
Dante laughed weakly.
“You're willing to blow up a hospital for accounting files?”
“Those files can destroy senators, judges, billionaires.”
“And you.”
“Especially me.”
“You already lost.”
Lang's expression hardened.
“Men like me don't lose. We relocate.”
Dante looked toward Mercer.
“You okay?”
Mercer groaned.
“Ask me after someone stops hitting me.”
Lang pressed the pistol against Dante's head.
“Hand.”
Dante held up his injured palm.
“Buy me dinner first.”
Lang struck him.
Elena flinched.
Marco whispered, “Two shooters.”
“I see them.”
“We wait for Kim.”
Dante suddenly looked toward the glass.
Directly at Elena.
Had he seen her?
Impossible.
Then he smiled faintly.
Lang noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Dante leaned back.
“Just thinking about how many times I've died this week.”
“Once.”
“Felt longer.”
“You're stalling.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dante looked toward the ceiling.
Lang followed his gaze.
Fire alarms.
Then Dante said:
“Because my nurse is terrifying.”
Elena hit the emergency oxygen shutdown.
The room went dark.
Marco fired.
Chaos.
One guard dropped.
The second fired blindly.
Mercer tackled Lang's legs.
Dante rolled aside.
Elena entered behind Marco.
Lang fired toward her.
The bullet shattered glass.
Marco returned fire.
Lang ran.
“Stay with Dante!” Marco shouted.
Elena dropped beside him.
“You absolute idiot.”
“Hello to you too.”
“You ripped your stitches.”
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
Blood covered his side.
Mercer crawled closer.
“He needs pressure.”
Elena pressed gauze against the wound.
Dante winced.
“Where's Lang?”
“Marco's following.”
“No.”
“What?”
“He wants that.”
Elena stared.
“Wants what?”
“To be followed.”
Dante grabbed her wrist.
“The charges.”
Understanding hit.
Lang was leading Marco toward the detonation point.
Elena shouted into the radio.
“Marco, STOP!”
Static.
Then his voice.
“What?”
“Don't follow him.”
Too late.
Another explosion shook the building.
The floor buckled.
Lights vanished.
Elena slammed against the wall.
When she opened her eyes, smoke filled the corridor.
“Dante?”
No answer.
“Mercer?”
A groan.
“Elena…”
She crawled toward the sound.
Mercer was trapped beneath fallen debris.
Dante lay several feet away.
Unconscious.
Again.
“No.”
Not again.
She reached him.
Pulse.
There.
Weak.
But there.
“Dante, wake up.”
Nothing.
Flames appeared at the end of the corridor.
Mercer struggled.
“Leave me.”
“No.”
“Elena, get Dante out.”
“I can get both.”
“You can't.”
She looked around.
A metal gurney.
She pulled it upright.
With impossible effort, she dragged Dante onto it.
Then returned to Mercer.
“On three.”
“Elena—”
“One.”
“Elena!”
“Two!”
He realized arguing was useless.
Together they shifted enough debris to free his leg.
Mercer collapsed.
Elena supported him with one arm and pushed Dante with the other.
Smoke thickened.
Fire chased them.
Twenty feet from the stairwell, Lang appeared.
Burned jacket.
Bloodied face.
Gun in hand.
“Stop.”
Elena froze.
Lang pointed the weapon at Dante.
“You should have listened when they pronounced him dead.”
Elena stepped between them.
Lang laughed.
“You again.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how many millions of dollars this man has cost me?”
“No.”
“How many lives?”
“I know the one in front of me.”
Lang's face twisted.
“You think he's worth saving?”
Elena looked down at Dante.
“I don't decide who deserves medicine.”
Lang raised the gun.
“Then I will.”
A shot rang out.
Elena flinched.
Lang collapsed.
Behind him stood Carlo Moretti.
Bleeding heavily.
Holding a pistol.
Dante's father looked at Elena.
“Take my son.”
She stared.
“You're hurt.”
“So is he.”
“You need help.”
Carlo smiled weakly.
“Too late.”
Mercer approached.
“Carlo—”
“No.”
Carlo handed him a small device.
“Detonator.”
Mercer took it.
“How many charges?”
“Three left.”
“Locations?”
Carlo listed them.
Fire crews could disarm them.
Elena looked at him.
“Come with us.”
Carlo glanced at Dante.
“I don't think he'd want that.”
“He'd rather hate you alive.”
Carlo laughed softly.
“Sounds like him.”
Dante stirred.
His eyes opened.
“Dad?”
Carlo stopped.
Dante stared at him.
“You came back.”
“Yes.”
“You look terrible.”
“So do you.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Come on.”
Carlo shook his head.
“Go.”
“No.”
“The building—”
“I said come.”
For a long moment, father and son looked at each other.
Then Carlo allowed Mercer to support him.
They moved toward the stairwell together.
Behind them, Saint Gabriel burned.
Ahead of them, firefighters rushed downward.
When Elena finally emerged into the night air, hundreds of evacuated patients filled the parking lots.
News crews filmed the smoke.
Sirens screamed.
Maria saw Carlo.
She covered her mouth.
Carlo stopped walking.
They stared at each other.
Decades of love and betrayal crossed the distance.
Then Maria stepped forward.
And slapped him.
Hard.
Carlo blinked.
“You deserved that,” she said.
“Yes.”
Then she embraced him.
Dante watched from the gurney.
Elena looked down at him.
“Still alive?”
He opened one eye.
“Unfortunately for several people.”
She laughed despite the smoke and chaos.
“You owe me.”
“What?”
“A peaceful night shift.”
“That might be beyond my influence.”
For once, Dante Moretti looked almost human.
“Then I'll start with dinner.”
Elena stared.
“You are bleeding internally and asking me on a date?”
“I've had a difficult week.”
“You have terrible timing.”
“Is that a no?”
She pushed his gurney toward the waiting trauma team.
“Survive first.”
Dante smiled.
“That's what you said last time.”
Behind them, federal agents placed Stephen Lang into an ambulance under armed guard.
Alive.
May you like
Under arrest.
And for the first time, the man who had believed himself untouchable had nowhere left to disappear.
