Chapter 10
The rain began to fall just as Marcus’s battered sedan pulled into the subterranean parking garage of the central medical center. The concrete cavern was damp, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent tubes, and largely empty save for a few parked doctors' sedans and an idling security van near the service elevator.
Clara sat in the passenger seat, dressed in a borrowed pair of dark denim jeans, a heavy black hoodie that concealed her silhouette, and a baseball cap pulled low over her forehead. Leo was strapped securely to her chest inside a baby-wearing carrier hidden beneath the heavy folds of the hoodie, resting quietly against her heartbeat.
"The security console is on the second subterranean level," Marcus whispered, keeping his hands lightly on the steering wheel as he checked his watch. "Shift change happens at midnight. For exactly seven minutes, the monitoring station is unmanned while the guards swap positions in the breakroom. That’s our window."
Clara nodded, her palms damp against the fabric of her hoodie. She wasn't the terrified, helpless patient who had wept behind the locked door of Room 402 anymore. The fear had crystallized into pure, cold resolve. She had survived their trap once; she would outmaneuver them in their own domain this time.
The dashboard clock ticked slowly toward midnight. The digital numbers flipped: 11:58 PM. 11:59 PM. 12:00 AM.
"Let's go," Marcus muttered, killing the engine and cutting the headlights.
They slipped out of the car into the damp chill of the parking garage, moving with practiced stealth toward the heavy steel fire door marked Authorized Personnel Only. Marcus produced a small set of electronic bypass tools from his jacket pocket—a tradecraft trick he had picked up during his investigative reporting days. With a series of soft clicks, the electronic lock flashed green, and the heavy door swung open silently into the stairwell.
They climbed one flight of stairs down to Sub-Level Two, their footsteps entirely muffled by the rubber treads. Peering through the wired glass window of the security control room, Clara saw that Marcus’s intel had been accurate: the room was completely empty, glowing computer monitors casting an eerie green light across the banks of empty chairs and flashing server racks.
Marcus slipped inside first, his fingers flying across the primary console terminal, inserting a high-capacity encrypted flash drive into the master USB port. "Downloading the primary database logs now," he whispered urgently, his eyes darting toward the progress bar creeping across the screen. "It's a massive file. It's going to take at least four minutes."
Clara stood guard by the open doorway, her eyes scanning the long, sterile hallway outside. Every shadow seemed to stretch and twist into the shape of a security guard or Eleanor's rigid silhouette.
Suddenly, the heavy sound of approaching rubber-soled boots echoed down the corridor. Someone was returning early from the breakroom.
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"Marcus," Clara hissed, her voice tight with panic. "We've got company! Hurry!"
Marcus stared at the screen in horror as the progress bar hit 88 percent. "Just a few more seconds!" he cursed under his breath, his fingers hovering over the keyboard ready to yank the drive out the second it finished.
