Chapter 7 - The Hospital Feed
Elena dropped the phone onto the desk, its plastic casing clattering loudly against the wood, and spun around toward her father’s antique leather chair. On the mahogany surface rested her own slim, rose-gold laptop, left behind when she rushed to the rooftop earlier that evening. She scrambled across the room, her fingers flying over the keyboard to access the private server linked to the estate’s security cameras.
The screen flickered, loading a high-definition live feed from the county hospital’s emergency entrance three miles away. The timestamp in the corner blinked a frantic digital red: 11:42 PM.
An ambulance was idling at the curb, its rear doors wide open. But the medical personnel weren't wheeling Beatrice inside. Instead, two men in dark suits—the exact same men who had accompanied the supposed federal agent to the helipad—were gently lifting Beatrice out of a wheelchair and guiding her into the back of an unmarked black SUV.
Beatrice didn't look distressed; she looked entirely compliant, leaning on the arm of one of the men with practiced familiarity. There was no struggle, no shouting, and no sign of medical distress whatsoever. The entire medical emergency at the reception hall had been a meticulously staged theatrical performance designed to clear the ballroom and isolate Elena.
"No," Elena whispered, pressing her face close to the screen as she zoomed in on the license plate of the SUV. "It can't be."
The phone on the desk continued to emit a faint, rhythmic beep from the open receiver line, reminding her that Julian was still listening on the other end. She grabbed the handset, bringing it back to her ear with furious intensity.
"You kidnapped my mother!" Elena screamed into the mouthpiece. "Where are you taking her?"
"Nobody kidnapped anyone, Elena," Julian’s voice replied with chilling serenity. "We are simply having a family reunion. And you’re invited. The private hangar at Westfields Airfield. Bring the vault documents, or your mother catches a very different kind of flight."
The line went dead, leaving a harsh, high-pitched dial tone hissing in her ear. Elena slammed the phone down, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She looked back down at the birth certificate on the desk, then at the open safe.
May you like
She had twenty minutes to reach Westfields Airfield, or lose the only family she had left.
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