Chapter 6 - The King Wakes UpDante Moretti woke fully thirty-six hours after being declared dead.
Elena descended the service stairs with her heart hammering against her ribs.
She wore hospital scrubs again because the message demanded it.
No visible weapon.
No phone.
No police escort.
At least that was what whoever was watching believed.
A tiny transmitter had been taped beneath her ID badge.
Marco and two detectives waited one floor above.
“If communication drops, we come in,” Marco had told her.
Elena had nodded.
Then he'd caught her wrist before she entered the stairwell.
“Don't try to be brave.”
“I thought bravery was the reason we're doing this.”
“No. We're doing it because they're expecting fear.”
“I have plenty of that.”
“Good. Use it.”
The stairwell ended at a heavy steel door.
B4.
Elena pushed it open.
Darkness.
Then emergency lights clicked on one by one.
An abandoned corridor stretched ahead.
Old hospital signs still hung crookedly from walls.
PEDIATRICS.
RADIOLOGY.
MORGUE.
Her breathing changed at the last word.
“Dr. Mercer?”
Her voice echoed.
No answer.
She moved forward.
The transmitter beneath her badge felt like a burning coin.
At the end of the corridor, an old surgical suite stood open.
Inside, Harold Mercer sat tied to a chair.
His face was bruised.
One eye nearly swollen shut.
“Elena?”
She hurried toward him.
“Don't!”
She stopped.
Mercer's eyes moved toward the ceiling.
“Camera.”
Elena forced herself not to look.
“Are you hurt badly?”
“I've had better mornings.”
“Who did this?”
Mercer laughed weakly.
“If I knew, I'd have mentioned it.”
A speaker crackled overhead.
A distorted voice filled the room.
“Nurse Torres.”
Elena looked up.
“You wanted me. I'm here.”
“Remove your badge.”
Her stomach tightened.
“They know,” Mercer whispered.
“Put it on the floor.”
Elena obeyed.
“Step on it.”
She hesitated.
“Elena,” the voice warned.
She crushed the transmitter.
Static exploded in Marco's earpiece upstairs.
Now she really was alone.
“What do you want?”
“Dante's words.”
“You already know them.”
“Say them.”
“He said ‘Not Mercer.’”
Mercer closed his eyes.
The speaker remained silent.
Elena continued.
“That was it.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You leaned close to him in ICU.”
“He wrote.”
“What?”
Elena understood.
They didn't know.
The hidden camera had been discovered before he wrote about seeing someone.
“I couldn't read it.”
“Wrong answer.”
A door slammed shut behind her.
Metal lock engaged.
Mercer struggled against the restraints.
“Elena, listen to me.”
“What?”
“They think Dante told me where he put the evidence.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“Because I'm deciding how much truth will get us killed.”
The speaker crackled.
“Doctor.”
Mercer looked up.
“Where is the drive?”
“I don't know.”
A red laser dot appeared on his chest.
Elena's blood froze.
Sniper?
No.
Something mounted behind tinted glass.
A weapon.
Automated.
“You have thirty seconds.”
Mercer shouted.
“I DON'T KNOW!”
“Twenty-nine.”
Elena stepped between Mercer and the laser.
“Stop!”
The dot moved onto her chest.
Mercer cursed.
“Elena, move!”
“No.”
The voice continued counting.
“Twenty-three.”
Elena's brain raced.
Drive.
Dante had evidence.
A physical drive.
Where would a paranoid man hide something?
Not with his men.
Not at home.
Maybe with the informant.
Maybe—
Dante's tattoos.
Dates.
Names.
Symbols.
Elena remembered something from the trauma bay.
A small key had been taped beneath the medical alert bracelet on his wrist.
She had assumed it belonged to security.
But what if—
“I know where it is.”
The countdown stopped.
Mercer stared at her.
The voice said, “Explain.”
“When Dante arrived, there was a small brass key taped beneath his bracelet.”
Mercer's face changed.
He hadn't known.
“Where is it?”
“Trauma storage.”
“Which locker?”
“I don't remember.”
“Think.”
Elena deliberately looked terrified.
“I was resuscitating him!”
Silence.
Then the voice said, “You will retrieve it.”
“And Mercer?”
“He remains.”
“No.”
“You are not negotiating.”
“Yes, I am.”
A long pause.
Elena's fear became real again.
“Untie him. He comes with me.”
“Nurse Torres—”
“You threatened my family. You tried to poison my patient. You dragged a surgeon into a basement. If you're going to kill us, you'll do it anyway.”
Mercer stared at her.
Elena continued.
“You need the key more than you need him.”
The speaker went silent.
Then the restraints around Mercer's wrists clicked open remotely.
Elena blinked.
Mercer stood painfully.
“Walk toward the door.”
They obeyed.
The door opened.
“Take the east corridor.”
Elena and Mercer moved.
As soon as they turned the corner, Mercer whispered.
“There was no key.”
Elena glanced sideways.
“There was.”
“Then why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Because until five minutes ago, I thought it opened a medication cabinet.”
Mercer almost smiled.
“That would be disappointingly ordinary.”
They reached the stairwell.
The voice returned.
“Only Torres goes upstairs.”
Elena stopped.
“No.”
“Elena,” Mercer whispered, “go.”
“They'll kill you.”
“Probably.”
“That's not funny.”
“I wasn't joking.”
She looked at him.
“You knew Dante was investigating the hospital.”
Mercer's expression darkened.
“Yes.”
“You knew he spoke in the trauma room.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He told me six months ago that if anything happened to him, he would try to reach me.”
“Why?”
“Because I helped him once.”
“With what?”
Mercer looked toward the ceiling camera.
“Not here.”
The speaker crackled.
“Enough.”
Footsteps sounded from behind them.
Two masked men appeared.
Elena's stomach dropped.
They carried guns.
“Move.”
One shoved Mercer toward the wall.
The other grabbed Elena.
She screamed.
The man clamped a hand over her mouth.
Then the lights went out.
Gunfire erupted.
Elena dropped instinctively.
Somebody shouted.
A body hit the floor.
Emergency strobes flashed.
Marco appeared through the darkness.
He tackled one attacker.
A detective fired toward the other.
Mercer pulled Elena behind a concrete support.
“Stay down!”
Within seconds, it ended.
One gunman escaped through a utility corridor.
The other lay unconscious.
Marco ripped off the man's mask.
Elena crawled closer.
She recognized him.
Hospital security.
Officer Ryan Keller.
He had worked Saint Gabriel for nine years.
He was one of the men who had responded to her complaint in the parking garage.
Marco searched him.
Phone.
Keycard.
Hospital master keys.
And a small remote control.
Mercer's face tightened.
“He controlled the weapon.”
Elena looked toward the corridor.
“Then who was on the speaker?”
Keller smiled through blood.
“You think we're stupid?”
Marco grabbed his jacket.
“Who are you working for?”
Keller laughed.
“Someone who owns more of this city than Dante ever will.”
Police hauled him upstairs.
Elena and Mercer followed.
When they reached the emergency department, the brass key was gone.
The evidence bag containing Dante's personal effects had been opened.
No forced entry.
No broken seal.
Someone with authorized access had taken it.
Elena closed her eyes.
“They were distracting us.”
Mercer nodded.
“The basement wasn't about getting information.”
“It was about getting us away from the evidence.”
Marco cursed.
“Who knew where Dante's belongings were stored?”
Mercer looked toward the central desk.
“Half the emergency department.”
Elena stared at the rows of staff.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Administrators.
Technicians.
Anyone could have taken it.
Then the elevator opened.
Hospital CEO Stephen Lang stepped out surrounded by attorneys.
Perfect suit.
Perfect tie.
Perfect expression of concern.
He walked directly toward Elena.
“Ms. Torres.”
She stiffened.
“We haven't met.”
“No.”
He offered his hand.
“Stephen Lang.”
She didn't take it.
Lang lowered his hand without embarrassment.
“I understand you've endured a terrible night.”
“That's one way to describe it.”
“I want you to know Saint Gabriel will protect you.”
Mercer appeared beside her.
“Will it?”
Lang's eyes shifted to him.
“Harold. Thank God.”
Mercer's expression held no warmth.
Lang continued.
“We were terrified when you disappeared.”
“Were you?”
Elena watched them.
The photograph of their secret meeting flashed through her mind.
Lang placed a hand over his heart.
“Whoever is behind this will be found.”
Then he looked through the ICU window at Dante.
For one brief second, his expression changed.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Recognition.
Dante's eyes were open.
And he was staring directly back.
The two men locked eyes through the glass.
Dante lifted one trembling hand.
May you like
Pointed straight at Stephen Lang.
Then his heart monitor exploded into alarms.
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