Chapter 10 - The Breach
Sparks showered from the top corner of the wooden door as an industrial thermal lance sliced through the steel deadbolt mechanism with a deafening screech. Helen spun around, her heart hammering against her ribs as she realized their time had completely run out.
"Leo, get away from the door," Helen whispered urgently, grabbing a heavy metal IV pole and positioning herself defensively between the bed and the entrance.
Maya lay still once more, her breathing finally subsiding into a deep, rhythmic calm, though her skin remained flushed and hot. The chaotic spikes on the heart monitor had smoothed out into a surprisingly steady, robust green line—proof that Vector-9 was working, even if it had pushed her to the brink of death.
With a final, violent kick, the reinforced door of Room 402 shattered inward, crashing heavily onto the linoleum floor in a cloud of dust and splintered wood.
Mr. Sterling stepped through the wreckage, his charcoal suit immaculate despite the sub-basement chaos, flanked by two burly private security guards wearing tactical body armor and holding riot shields. Sterling adjusted his rimless glasses, his cold eyes scanning the room until they landed on Helen holding the makeshift weapon, and then on Leo standing beside the bed.
"Dr. Vance, you really should have taken the retirement package when the board offered it last year," Sterling said smoothly, stepping into the room with measured, unhurried strides. "Stealing proprietary bio-pharmaceutical assets and unauthorized administration of a restricted compound on a civilian minor... that's not just a breach of contract. That's federal treason."
"You don't care about the contract, Sterling, and you don't care about the company," Helen fired back, refusing to lower the IV pole. "You care about covering up the trial fatalities before the FDA audit next week."
Sterling smiled coldly, gesturing to the two guards, who advanced slowly with their shields raised. "The trials are irrelevant now. What matters is recovering the remaining compound and ensuring that unauthorized witnesses are permanently silenced—legally, of course."
"You won't get away with this," Leo snarled, stepping in front of Maya’s sleeping form, his olive-green jacket bunched up around his fists. "My sister is alive because of that serum. You can't take it back."
"Your sister is a statistical anomaly, boy," Sterling replied, signaling the guards to flank the bed. "And anomalies must be corrected."
The security guards moved forward, heavy boots stepping over the splintered wood. Helen swung the IV pole with all her might, catching the first guard across the helmet, but the second guard lunged forward, grabbing her arms and pinning her against the wall with brutal efficiency.
Leo reached out to grab a heavy glass water pitcher from the bedside table, preparing to throw it, when a sudden, blinding flash of white light erupted from the hallway outside, accompanied by the blare of multiple emergency sirens.
Sterling frowned, freezing in place as heavy, booted footsteps echoed down the corridor—not the quiet steps of private security, but the heavy, authoritative march of federal law enforcement.
"Federal Marshals! Nobody move!" a voice bellowed from the doorway.
May you like
Sterling’s expression shifted from smug confidence to absolute, unadulterated shock as an armed FBI agent stepped past the shattered doorframe, pointing a service weapon directly at his chest.
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