Chapter 9 - The Guard Who Worked for Someone Else
Daniel stared at the security monitor.
Marcus Hale had worked for the Whitmore family for eighteen years.
He had guarded Daniel after his father’s death.
He had attended Daniel and Brooke’s wedding.
That morning, Daniel had trusted him with Sophie’s hospital security.
“Call the hospital,” Daniel said.
Emily already had her phone out.
The call failed.
No signal underground.
Arthur moved quickly toward a control panel.
“They have activated a communications jammer.”
“Who are they?” Brooke asked.
Arthur locked the laboratory doors.
“Men who want the archive.”
Victoria looked at him.
“What archive?”
“The surviving records from Saint Catherine.”
“You said they were destroyed.”
“I said the clinic records were destroyed. Richard made copies.”
Daniel grabbed Arthur’s shoulder.
“Where are they?”
“Not here.”
Gunfire echoed through the corridor.
The first locked door shook.
Arthur opened a hidden panel behind the tissue chambers.
A narrow passage appeared.
“Move.”
Emily hesitated.
“My daughter is in a hospital guarded by Marcus’s men.”
“If you stay, you will die here and she will still be unprotected.”
They entered the passage.
Arthur sealed the panel behind them.
The tunnel sloped downward into an older part of the facility.
Brooke walked beside Emily.
“Why would Marcus betray Daniel?”
Victoria answered.
“Because Marcus’s father worked for Richard.”
Daniel turned.
“What?”
“Samuel Hale was Richard’s driver.”
“The man who survived the crash?”
Victoria nodded.
Daniel had been told the other driver died at the scene and Richard’s driver had escaped with minor injuries.
“What happened to him?”
“He disappeared after giving his statement.”
Arthur spoke from ahead.
“Samuel did not disappear. Victoria paid him.”
Victoria stopped.
“That is a lie.”
Arthur faced her.
“You paid him to say Richard had been alone in the back seat.”
“He was alone.”
“No. Richard was transporting one of the Saint Catherine children.”
The tunnel fell silent.
Brooke’s voice trembled.
“Which child?”
Arthur looked at her.
“You.”
Brooke gripped the wall.
“My mother told me I never met Richard.”
“Linda lied to protect you.”
Daniel stared at Arthur.
“My father died with Brooke in the car?”
“She was eleven months old. Richard planned to return her to Linda after taking a tissue sample to federal authorities.”
“Why take a baby?”
“Because Brooke was the proof. Her DNA matched records the foundation claimed did not exist.”
Victoria shook her head.
“No child was found at the crash.”
“Samuel removed her before police arrived.”
Brooke began to cry silently.
Arthur continued.
“Richard’s heart failed while driving. The car crossed the median. Samuel survived, removed Brooke, and delivered her back to Linda.”
“And the evidence?” Emily asked.
“Gone.”
Gunfire echoed closer.
Arthur led them through another steel door into a room filled with paper files.
Hundreds of boxes reached the ceiling.
Daniel looked around.
“You said the archive was not here.”
“This is not the archive they want.”
“What is this?”
“Medical monitoring records for descendants of the six.”
Emily found a box labeled PARKER, SOPHIE.
She pulled it down.
Inside were copies of every medical visit Sophie had ever attended.
At the bottom lay a recent cardiology projection.
Without experimental intervention, estimated survival: four to nine months.
Emily could not breathe.
Arthur took the report from her.
“The hospital did not give you that estimate because they were waiting for confirmation.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you left a note with a six-year-old child instead of speaking to me?”
“I needed you to come before the others found her.”
“Who are the others?”
Arthur looked toward the ceiling as another explosion shook the institute.
“The people who financed Saint Catherine after the Whitmore Foundation withdrew.”
“Names.”
“Senators. Pharmaceutical executives. Military contractors. Families who believed genetically connected children could become permanent biological resources.”
Daniel’s expression turned to disgust.
“Human spare parts.”
Arthur did not deny it.
Brooke looked at the boxes.
“Are they still creating children?”
“No.”
She studied his face.
“You are lying.”
Arthur turned away.
Marcus’s voice suddenly came through the room’s speaker system.
“Dr. Vale, you have thirty seconds to open the archive.”
Arthur reached beneath a desk and removed a small metal key.
He handed it to Emily.
“What is this?”
“A deposit key.”
“For what?”
“The original ledger.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“You said you never had it.”
“I did not. Richard hid it.”
“Where?”
Arthur looked at Daniel.
“In a place Victoria would never enter.”
Daniel understood.
His father’s grave.
Marcus began counting through the speaker.
“Twenty-nine.”
Arthur opened another hidden door.
“This tunnel exits near the river.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You are coming with us.”
“No.”
“You’re the only one who knows the treatment.”
“The protocol is already waiting at the hospital.”
Emily froze.
“What do you mean?”
Arthur’s expression changed.
“My team moved the necessary equipment there yesterday.”
“You planned this before Sophie was admitted.”
“I knew her heart was failing.”
“Twenty,” Marcus called.
Arthur pressed a flash drive into Emily’s hand.
“The treatment data is here. Give it only to Dr. Bennett.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You should not.”
“Then why would I use this on my daughter?”
“Because the other option is to watch her die slowly.”
Daniel pulled Arthur toward the hidden exit.
“You can explain it yourself.”
Arthur resisted.
“If I leave, Marcus will follow. If I remain, I can delay him.”
Victoria looked at Arthur.
“You caused all of this.”
“Yes.”
“And now you want to become a martyr?”
“No. I want enough time to correct one mistake.”
The outer door began to bend inward.
Arthur pushed Emily into the tunnel.
“Go.”
Daniel followed, then Brooke.
Victoria remained behind for one second.
“What was Richard trying to tell me before he died?” she asked.
Arthur looked at her.
“That Daniel was not your only living son.”
Victoria’s face went blank.
May you like
Arthur sealed the tunnel door between them.
The last thing they heard was Marcus reaching zero.
