Chapter 8 - NO ONE WAS COMING
Dominic wanted to chase the ambulance.
I stopped him.
“Alexander said not to trust anyone who arrived after the fire.”
“The ambulance arrived before the agents.”
“Did it?”
Dominic checked the security timeline.
The vehicle had been parked two blocks away before the alarm.
It moved into position four minutes after the explosion.
The federal agents arrived one minute later.
Coordinated.
“Which do we follow?” Sophie asked.
Dominic looked toward the road.
“The ambulance.”
“No,” I said.
“My mother is inside.”
“Exactly. That is why Hale expects us to follow.”
Dominic studied me.
“Alexander was arrested.”
“On planted evidence.”
“If the agents work for Hale, they may kill him.”
“Hale does not want Alexander dead yet.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Alexander still controls the Rossi ports. Hale needs signatures, codes, and access. My mother knows where the original evidence came from, but she does not control anything.”
The truth hurt.
Victor might kill her faster.
“We split up,” I said. “You find my mother. I follow Alexander.”
Dominic shook his head.
“You cannot.”
“You helped Victor’s people for twelve years. You know their routes and medical facilities.”
“And you know nothing about following federal vehicles.”
“I know Alexander gave me his watch for a reason.”
I examined it.
The engraving was too obvious to be only sentimental.
I pressed the crown.
Nothing.
I turned it twice.
A small compartment opened beneath the face.
Inside was a thin tracking chip.
Dominic looked impressed.
“He tagged himself.”
“He knew they were coming.”
“Or suspected.”
Sophie touched her father’s arm.
“You find Mrs. Hart. I’ll go with Lena.”
“No,” Dominic and I said together.
She crossed her arms.
“I spent twelve years being hidden in rooms while other people decided whether I lived. I’m done too.”
I understood her more than I wanted to.
Dominic did not.
“You are staying with security.”
“Whose security? The building just burned.”
He had no answer.
In the end, Sophie went with a trusted female security officer named Ava. Dominic took two vehicles after the ambulance.
I followed Alexander’s tracker with one driver.
The federal vehicle crossed the Charles River.
Then it left the main road.
It did not travel toward any federal detention center.
It entered a private underground garage beneath an office complex owned by North Atlantic.
I called Dominic.
“They took him to Hale.”
“Do not go inside.”
“I cannot wait.”
“You said Hale needs him alive.”
“He may change his mind.”
I ended the call.
The driver looked at me through the mirror.
“Mr. Rossi would order me to keep you in this vehicle.”
“Mr. Rossi is tied to a chair somewhere.”
The driver sighed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
We entered through a parking stairwell.
The building above appeared empty.
North Atlantic logos had been removed from the walls, but lighter rectangles showed where they had hung.
Alexander’s tracker was three floors below ground.
The elevator required a code.
0715 opened it.
Of course.
Alexander had known these buildings.
Perhaps his father had taught him the emergency systems.
The elevator opened into a laboratory corridor.
I heard voices beyond a glass door.
Victor Hale.
“You have spent years pretending to clean your family’s name.”
Alexander answered.
“My family’s name was never clean.”
“You inherited more honesty than Salvatore intended.”
“Where is Evelyn Hart?”
“Safe for now.”
“And Lena?”
“Still running toward danger.”
“You touch her, and every Rossi asset you use disappears before sunrise.”
Victor laughed.
“You care about her.”
“Yes.”
The simple answer stopped me.
No hesitation.
No denial.
“Yes,” Alexander repeated. “So understand what happens if she is harmed.”
“You are in no position to threaten me.”
“The moment your agents moved me off the public route, my attorneys received the location.”
My eyes widened.
Alexander was bluffing.
Or perhaps he was not.
Victor’s voice became colder.
“You think laws matter?”
“No. I think publicity matters to cowards.”
I looked through the glass.
Alexander sat tied to a metal chair.
Two fake agents stood behind him.
Victor paced nearby.
A laptop rested on the table.
“What do you need?” Alexander asked.
“Access to Pier Nine.”
“No.”
“Then Mrs. Hart misses her next treatment.”
“No.”
“Then Lena receives your body in pieces.”
Alexander smiled slightly.
“If I disappear, every port closes automatically.”
Victor stopped pacing.
Alexander had built safeguards.
He had expected betrayal from everyone.
Perhaps even from himself.
“Then you will record a statement,” Victor said. “You will admit you used Harbor Relief to launder money through medical accounts. You will confess to Daniel Hart’s murder.”
“No.”
“Your father already confessed.”
Alexander’s expression changed.
Victor turned the laptop.
A video showed Salvatore in a hospital bed.
He looked pale but alive.
“I ordered Daniel Hart’s death,” Salvatore said on screen. “My son Alexander learned of it years later and continued the operation.”
The video ended.
“False,” Alexander said.
“His voice. His face.”
“Edited.”
“Prove it.”
Victor leaned closer.
“The public already believes you are a criminal. Give them the confession they expect.”
I needed a way to reach him.
My phone would reveal sound.
The earpiece had a text function.
I typed four words.
DON’T MAKE A SOUND.
Alexander’s watch vibrated once.
His gaze did not move.
But one finger tapped the chair.
He knew I was there.
I sent another message.
THREE MINUTES.
A lie.
I had no team.
No plan.
Only the memory of what he had done for me.
I studied the laboratory.
Emergency shower.
Chemical cabinet.
Fire alarm.
Ventilation controls.
I opened the cabinet.
Several containers carried hazard symbols.
I did not know enough chemistry to use them safely.
But I knew smoke created confusion.
I pulled the fire alarm.
Sirens erupted.
The glass doors unlocked automatically.
I threw a metal canister into the corridor.
White vapor filled the space.
The guards turned.
Alexander kicked one behind the knee.
I rushed through the door.
The second guard grabbed me.
I bit his hand.
He shouted.
Alexander drove the chair backward into him.
I grabbed the dropped weapon and pointed it without knowing whether I could fire.
“Move away.”
The guard stared at my shaking hands.
“You won’t.”
Alexander said, “She swung an IV pole at an armed man. I would believe her.”
The guard moved.
I cut Alexander’s restraints.
Victor had disappeared into the smoke.
Alexander caught my shoulders.
“What are you doing here?”
“Saving you.”
“You brought a team?”
“No.”
His face went blank.
“You came alone?”
“With a driver.”
“That is not a team.”
“I only had three minutes.”
Despite the alarm, he pulled me against him.
His mouth touched my forehead.
“You terrified me.”
“Now you understand.”
We found the laptop.
The confession video remained open.
Alexander copied the file.
Metadata showed it had been created six months earlier.
Salvatore had recorded the false confession before his supposed death.
“Victor planned to frame you years ago,” I said.
Alexander’s expression hardened.
“He planned for every possibility.”
My phone rang.
Dominic.
“We found the ambulance.”
“Is my mother alive?”
“Vehicle is empty.”
My heart sank.
“There is blood inside.”
“Whose?”
“We don’t know.”
Alexander took the phone.
“Where did the ambulance stop before you found it?”
Dominic checked traffic cameras.
“Saint Vincent’s Oncology Pavilion.”
Alexander looked at me.
The name meant nothing to me.
It meant something to him.
“That is where Isabella died,” he said.
We reached Saint Vincent’s at noon.
The building had been closed for renovation.
One entrance stood unlocked.
Inside, we found medical lights burning.
A treatment room had been prepared.
My mother sat in a recliner with an IV connected to her arm.
Dr. Mercer stood beside her.
He looked exhausted.
“Do not come closer,” he said.
“What did you give her?” I demanded.
“Her actual chemotherapy.”
I stopped.
My mother opened her eyes.
“Lena?”
I ran to her.
Mercer did not stop me.
The IV bag carried the correct medication label.
Alexander checked it.
“Why?” he asked.
Mercer sat down heavily.
“Because Hale ordered me to kill her.”
My mother gripped my hand.
“I could not do it.”
“You were ready to inject potassium at the clinic,” I said.
“I was afraid.”
“And now?”
“I am more afraid of becoming the man he believes I am.”
Mercer took a small recorder from his pocket.
“I have documented everything for twelve years.”
Alexander stared at him.
“Why keep records?”
“Insurance.”
“Hale knows?”
“No.”
“Where are they?”
Mercer pointed toward the wall.
Inside an old radiation machine casing, we found drives, paper files, and patient photographs.
Enough evidence to connect North Atlantic to hundreds of fraudulent treatments.
“Why did you never release it?” I asked.
Mercer looked at my mother.
“Because cowardice becomes a habit.”
My mother’s eyes closed again.
The treatment made her nauseated, but she was alive.
Dominic entered with Sophie.
He looked at Mercer.
“Can you identify where Hale keeps hostages?”
Mercer hesitated.
“Which hostage?”
“Salvatore Rossi.”
Mercer’s face changed.
“You think Salvatore is Hale’s prisoner?”
“We saw a video.”
Mercer shook his head.
“Salvatore is not his prisoner.”
Alexander stepped forward.
“What do you mean?”
“Victor Hale did not force Salvatore to record that confession.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Salvatore created the entire contingency plan.”
The room became silent.
Mercer looked at Alexander.
“Your father was never hiding from Victor.”
May you like
He swallowed.
“Victor was hiding him.”
