Chapter 7 - The ICU Siege
“The file is uploaded!” Julian shouted, looking at his watch. 5:48 AM. “We have twelve minutes before Dr. Harrison enters ICU Suite 9!”
Victoria laughed hysterically from the floor, blood trickling from her lip. “It doesn't matter! Harrison has his orders! By the time the federal agents arrive, your father will already be brain-dead! You’ll have your revenge, Emma, but you won't have a father!”
My heart hammered against my ribs. I grabbed the flashlight and looked at Julian. “We have to get to the elevator!”
“The main elevators are locked down!” Sarah called out from the service corridor. “We have to take the laundry lift!”
We left Victoria groaning on the floor of the boiler room and sprinted down the narrow brick tunnel toward the industrial laundry lift. We squeezed inside the iron cage, and Julian pulled the manual lever. The rusty chain groaned as the elevator began its slow, agonizing ascent toward the 4th floor ICU.
5:52 AM.
The elevator jolted to a halt. Julian pried the iron gates open. We stepped out into the rear service pantry of the ICU wing.
Through the glass window of the pantry door, I could see two armed hospital guards standing outside ICU Suite 9. A man in a white lab coat—Dr. Harrison—was walking down the hallway carrying a small metallic tray with a covered syringe.
“Harrison is going in!” Sarah whispered in horror.
“We can't fight two armed guards,” Julian muttered, looking around the pantry.
I looked at the industrial fire alarm box mounted on the wall beside the industrial linen steamer.
Without a second thought, I pulled the heavy glass hammer, smashed the safety seal, and pulled the red alarm handle all the way down.
Instantly, deafening sirens shrieked through the entire hospital. High-pressure overhead sprinklers exploded to life, drenching the corridors in ice-cold water. Fire doors began slamming shut automatically across the wing.
Chaos erupted in the ICU corridor. Nurses screamed, rushing to secure patients. The two armed guards panicked, looking around as water poured from the ceiling.
Dr. Harrison dropped his tray in surprise, the syringe rolling across the wet floor.
“Now!” I yelled.
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Julian slammed open the pantry doors, tackling the nearest guard into the flooded hallway. Sarah lunged at the second guard, spraying him directly in the face with a commercial chemical fire extinguisher.
I sprinted past the blinding white foam and splashing water, kicking open the double doors of ICU Suite 9.
