Chapter 4 - THE CHILD IN THE RED COAT
Emergency lights flickered on.
Cole pushed Sophia and Miriam beneath the desk.
“Stay down.”
Another gunshot echoed outside the mobile unit.
Boots struck pavement.
Someone shouted.
Then came the sound of an engine accelerating through the rain.
Cole rushed to the doorway.
By the time security vehicles reached the eastern gate, a black motorcycle had already vanished into the trees.
No one saw the rider’s face.
The technician lay on the ground beside the unit, blood spreading from a wound in his shoulder.
He was alive.
The flash drive was gone.
But Sophia still had the birth date.
She repeated it until it became permanent.
October 17.
Seven years ago.
Cole returned.
“Did you see who took it?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else know the password?”
“Only Dr. Vale.”
Miriam helped Sophia stand.
“Could Ethan have known?”
“He knew everything else.”
Cole’s phone rang.
While he answered, Sophia noticed a small object near the rear tire of the mobile unit.
A red thread.
Not ordinary thread.
A narrow strip of woven fabric.
She picked it up.
The material was soft, expensive, and damp with rain.
Attached to it was a gold button shaped like a bird.
A nightingale.
Cole ended his call.
“Ethan’s attorney has arrived at the hospital. He’s refusing further questions.”
“And Lauren?”
“Gone.”
Sophia stared at him.
“How?”
“She checked herself out during the facility emergency.”
“You had an officer outside her room.”
“The officer was called to assist with a disturbance on another floor.”
“A planned disturbance.”
“Most likely.”
Sophia showed him the button.
Cole placed it in an evidence bag.
“Could belong to the rider.”
“Or Lauren.”
“You think she came here?”
“I think she wants me to believe she did.”
Miriam’s phone vibrated.
She checked the screen.
Her expression shifted.
“What?”
“Your company board has called an emergency meeting for ten tonight.”
“Without me?”
“They claim concerns about your emotional stability after an assault at the hospital.”
Sophia laughed bitterly.
Ethan had moved quickly.
He had been exposed less than two hours earlier, yet he was already turning her reaction into evidence against her.
“What are they voting on?”
“Temporary removal of both founders pending investigation.”
“Both?”
“That’s what the notice says.”
Sophia understood immediately.
Ethan did not need to remain in control.
He only needed Sophia removed long enough for someone else to access Nightingale and erase what remained.
“Who called the meeting?”
Miriam read the message.
“Board chair, Daniel Mercer.”
Lauren’s father.
Sophia looked through the rain toward the damaged research building.
“He knew.”
Miriam nodded slowly.
“And now he knows you know.”
Cole approached them.
“You need protection.”
“I need access to the company servers.”
“The site is a crime scene.”
“Then the main headquarters.”
“Also under federal hold.”
Sophia turned to Peter.
“Is there an offline backup?”
Peter hesitated.
“Officially, no.”
“Unofficially?”
He glanced at Cole.
Sophia stepped closer.
“Peter, someone murdered Dr. Vale and stole evidence. A child may have been taken using my medical records. Tell me where the backup is.”
Peter swallowed.
“Your old prototype lab.”
Sophia stared at him.
“That was shut down six years ago.”
“The servers were never fully disconnected.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Cross ordered us to maintain a mirror.”
Ethan had hidden Nightingale inside the first building Sophia ever owned.
A converted library on the east side where she had written the original biometric code.
“Can we access it remotely?” Cole asked.
“No,” Peter said. “Physical connection only.”
Sophia began walking toward her car.
Cole blocked her path.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You are not going at all until a team clears it.”
“How long?”
“As long as necessary.”
“By ten tonight, the board may remove me. By midnight, whatever Ethan is hiding may disappear.”
Cole’s jaw tightened.
“You think charging into an unsecured building is safer?”
“No.”
“Then stop.”
Sophia looked at him.
“My child may be alive.”
Cole held her gaze.
“And if you die looking for that child, who will finish this?”
The question reached her.
She hated him for being right.
They waited twenty-four minutes for a tactical team.
The old prototype lab stood between an abandoned theater and a church. Its windows were boarded. Ivy covered the brick walls.
Sophia had not entered it since CrossHale moved to its glass headquarters downtown.
The building contained the best years of her marriage.
It also contained the first lies.
The tactical team cleared the ground floor.
No people.
No explosives.
Sophia, Cole, and Peter entered the basement server room.
Dust covered the machines, but several indicator lights still blinked.
Peter connected a secure terminal.
The system requested biometric authorization.
Sophia placed her hand on the scanner.
ACCESS DENIED.
She tried again.
ACCESS DENIED.
Peter frowned.
“Your profile has been removed.”
“Try Ethan.”
“I don’t have his print.”
Sophia looked at the camera above the terminal.
“Facial recognition?”
“Yes.”
She removed Ethan’s company portrait from the wall upstairs and held it before the camera.
Peter almost smiled.
“That shouldn’t work.”
The terminal chimed.
ACCESS GRANTED.
Sophia looked at him.
“My earliest system could be fooled by a photograph. I fixed that flaw twelve years ago.”
“Then why is this version using the old software?”
“Because someone wanted a back door.”
The file directory opened.
Hundreds of folders filled the screen.
Most were labeled with numbers.
One bore Sophia’s initials.
Inside were medical records, photographs, and surveillance images taken over more than a decade.
Sophia pregnant.
Sophia leaving therapy.
Sophia asleep in a hospital room.
Sophia holding an urn.
She covered her mouth.
Ethan had documented her grief.
Not as a husband.
As a researcher.
Peter opened another folder.
Three embryo records appeared.
SH-01.
SH-02.
SH-03.
The first status read STORAGE ACTIVE.
The second read CLIENT TRANSFER PENDING.
The third read OUTCOME CONFIRMED.
Cole pointed at the third.
“Open it.”
A photograph appeared.
A little girl stood outside a school wearing a red coat.
Dark hair framed her face.
Her eyes were unmistakable.
Sophia’s eyes.
Beneath the photograph were two words.
SUBJECT LARK.
Sophia touched the screen.
The child looked about seven.
The same age as the hidden birth certificate.
“Where is she?”
Peter searched the metadata.
The most recent photograph had been taken three days earlier.
A school emblem was visible on the child’s coat.
Miriam searched it on her phone.
“Wellington Academy.”
Sophia knew the school.
It was less than fifteen miles away.
Cole called his team.
Before he finished, the terminal chimed.
A live video window opened.
The little girl in the red coat appeared on screen.
She sat in the back seat of a moving vehicle.
Her hands were tied.
A black hood covered the driver’s head.
Sophia stepped toward the monitor.
The child lifted her face.
Someone off camera spoke.
“Tell her your name.”
The girl’s lips trembled.
“Lily.”
Sophia’s knees nearly gave way.
The voice continued.
“Tell Sophia what happens if she attends the board meeting.”
Lily began to cry.
The video cut to black.
A message replaced it.
May you like
RESIGN BEFORE TEN.
OR THE CHILD DISAPPEARS AGAIN.
