Chapter 4 - The Strike on the Door
The violent slamming against the exterior door shook the metal nameplate on the table, causing it to slide an inch across the surface. Officer Ramirez leveled his weapon, his knuckles white as he aimed directly at the reinforced glass viewing panel.
"Step away from the door!" Ramirez shouted, though his voice was nearly drowned out by a sickening crunch of grinding steel.
Arthur grabbed the heavy metal table and shoved it sideways to barricade the lower half of the door, his muscles straining despite his age. He glanced back at Elena, who stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the glass pane.
"Is that your security team, Elena?" Arthur asked, his breath coming in measured, calm intervals. "Or did you invite someone else to the party?"
"I didn't invite anyone," Elena whispered, her voice barely audible over the mechanical groaning of the door hinges. She reached out, her fingers trembling as she grabbed the edge of the medical cart. "The project was funded by a private board of directors. They wanted results. When the first human trials showed mutation instead of regression, they ordered a complete purge of the facility."
"A purge," Arthur repeated bitterly. He pulled a heavy-duty sidearm from a concealed holster beneath his brown jacket and checked the clip with a practiced click. "And burning down the hospital with us inside was part of their standard operating procedure?"
"They aren't trying to burn it down," a metallic voice crackled over the room's emergency intercom, interrupting them. The voice was distorted by a heavy vocoder, smooth and devoid of human warmth. "Director Vance, the board extends its regards. You have thirty seconds to hand over the data drive, or the second seal on Sub-Level Four will be systematically dismantled."
Officer Ramirez frowned, lowering his gun slightly in sheer confusion. "Who is that? Is that base command?"
"That is the board," Elena said, her eyes filling with a mixture of terror and bitter realization. She looked at Arthur, her professional composure entirely shattered. "They aren't government, Arthur. They never were. The military oversight was just a shell corporation to keep the CDC off our backs."
Arthur’s expression darkened into a scowl. He stepped toward the intercom speaker, pressing a small manual override toggle beneath the casing.
"You're thirty years too late to bury this project," Arthur spoke into the grille, his voice echoing through the facility's speakers. "The data was uploaded to an off-site military satellite the moment my team crossed the county line."
The intercom hummed with static for a long, agonizing moment before the distorted voice returned, laced with a chilling amusement.
"Is that why your satellite uplink went offline at precisely 04:12 hours, Colonel?" the voice asked smoothly. "Check your tactical tablet."
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Arthur instantly glanced down at the screen in his hand. The pulsing amber dot representing their connection to the outside world had vanished, replaced by a blinking red skull and a single word: Isolated.
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