Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the System
The hospital hallway grew unnaturally quiet. The warning in the mysterious caller’s voice hung heavily in the air, a phantom chill cutting through the sterile scent of antiseptic.
“Who was that?” Abigail whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the heart monitor.
“I don’t know yet,” I replied, keeping my eyes locked on Patricia, whose composure had snapped back into place like a coiled spring.
“If you’re waiting for local backup, Colonel, you’ll be waiting a very long time,” Patricia said smoothly, adjusting the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist. “Chief Vance is a personal guest at our estate every Thanksgiving. He knows how to handle domestic disputes involving our family.”
The confirmation of the police chief's allegiance was brazen. They weren't just influential; they operated a private fiefdom. But Patricia made a fatal miscalculation: she assumed military discipline meant slow, rigid obedience. She didn’t know about my network outside the local jurisdiction.
I hit speed dial on my encrypted satellite phone, stepping just outside the observation door.
“Major Vance,” a crisp voice answered immediately.
“General, I need a detachment of military police dispatched to St. Bernard Hospital in Charlotte under federal jurisdiction, title ten provisions for dependent protection. Code red, immediate perimeter lock.”
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“On it, Colonel. ETA twenty minutes.”
When I stepped back inside, Nicholas and his family were moving toward the exit, confident they had won round one. But as they reached the sliding doors, a squad of armed military police in desert camouflage marched through the main entrance, establishing a hard perimeter that blocked every exit.
