Chapter 10 - The Federal Judge
The cold air rushing in from the broken ventilation ducts cleared the last remnants of the chemical haze from the laboratory.
Jonathan lay motionless on the floor a few yards away, breathing in slow, ragged gasps as his nervous system slowly began to reboot from the paralytic agent. His eyes were wide and unfocused, staring up at the water-stained ceiling tiles as he processed his father's final betrayal.
Stallone kept his grip firm on Arthur’s throat, applying just enough pressure to remind the chief surgeon who was in control, before hauling him roughly to his feet and shoving him against the steel control console.
"A federal judge?" Stallone demanded, his voice echoing sharply off the concrete walls. "Which judge, Arthur? Give me a name before I lose my patience entirely."
Arthur coughed violently, massaging his bruised neck with a trembling hand while flashing a twisted, defiant grin that exposed yellowed teeth.
"Judge Thomas Sterling," Arthur wheezed, adjusting the collar of his ruined lab coat with shaking fingers. "The same man who approved every single charter for this hospital’s private wing. He’s the head of the oversight committee. You think you can walk into a federal courtroom with a charred notebook and arrest a sitting judge? The moment you step outside this hospital, you’ll be branded as a domestic terrorist."
Stallone didn't flinch. He reached down and retrieved the charred ledger from the floor where Jonathan had dropped it, slipping it securely back into the inside pocket of his black suit.
"Sterling was investigated by internal affairs five years ago before the file mysteriously vanished," Stallone said quietly. "And you were the one who signed the medical hush-money payments to keep his name clean."
Arthur let out a dry, hacking laugh. "And now you have the evidence. What are you going to do with it, Miller? Shoot me? Hand me over to corrupt local cops who answer to Sterling’s payroll? There is no system left to save you. We own the city."
From the floor, Jonathan stirred, pushing himself up onto his elbows. His face was pale as ghost, and tears tracked through the soot and sweat on his cheeks.
"He's right," Jonathan whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking with grief. "My father... he set up a contingency protocol. If the master server is ever accessed without our biometric key, an automated broadcast sends every compromised family record directly to the syndicate's off-shore servers. Hundreds of adoptive parents will be extorted, and the children... the children will be harvested to pay off the board's debts."
Stallone turned his head sharply toward Jonathan. "Where is the physical override key?"
Jonathan pointed a trembling finger toward a heavy steel safe embedded in the concrete wall behind Arthur’s desk. "Inside... biometric thumbprint scanner. Only my father and Judge Sterling have the master clearance codes."
Arthur’s smile widened into a malicious sneer. "Go ahead, Miller. Try to open it. One wrong input, and the entire database incinerates itself along with this entire underground wing."
Stallone stepped away from Arthur, walking slowly toward the steel safe embedded in the wall. He stared at the glowing blue biometric scanner pad, his mind calculating every variable with cold, tactical precision.
Suddenly, the heavy steel security doors outside the laboratory began to shudder violently as heavy battering rams struck the exterior locks.
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"They're here," Arthur whispered triumphantly. "Sterling’s cleanup crew has arrived."
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