Chapter 8 - The Siege of Suite 402
“Mr. Henderson, barricade that door!” Victoria commanded, her voice cutting through the panic in the room.
The seasoned attorney didn't hesitate. He grabbed a heavy steel medical cart and shoved it hard against the reinforced wooden door just as the first heavy blow struck the exterior handle.
Bang! Bang!
“Mrs. Sterling, open this door!” a gruff, muffled voice shouted from the hallway. “Hand over the boy and nobody gets hurt!”
Dr. Alistair panicked, grabbing his coat. “This is madness! Arthur didn't tell me there would be violence! I’m a physician, not a criminal accomplice!”
“You stopped being a physician the day you sold my baby, Alistair,” Victoria hissed, grabbing the doctor by his lapel and shoving him against the counter. “If you want to walk out of here alive, you’re going to help Mr. Henderson hold that barricade!”
Outside, the second blow shattered the wooden door frame. Wood splinters flew across the linoleum as the heavy oak door buckled inward under the coordinated assault of hired mercenaries.
Tyler let out a terrified cry, burying his face in Julian’s jacket. Julian, despite being only nine years old, stood tall, wrapping his arms around his brother protectively, staring at the breached doorway with a fierce, defiant glare that was the spitting image of his mother.
Victoria stepped forward, shielding both boys with her body, her hand gripping a heavy brass microscope off the counter.
The door crashed open the rest of the way.
The lead mercenary stepped into the room, raising a heavy-duty zip-tie restraint in one hand.
“Don't make this hard, lady—” he started.
Crash!
A heavy glass jar of medical specimens struck the mercenary square in the chest, hurled with surprising force by Mr. Henderson. At the same time, Dr. Alistair—terrified for his own skin—swept his leg out, catching the second intruder off balance as he tried to rush through the door frame.
Before the men could recover, the shrill, deafening wail of the hospital’s emergency lockdown alarm pierced the air.
WEE-WOO! WEE-WOO!
Flashing red emergency strobe lights flooded the hallway. Heavy steel fire doors dropped from the ceiling at both ends of the corridor, trapping the mercenaries between the secure ward and the main elevator bank.
“Boss is calling off the extraction! We’ve got local police on the floor!” the lead intruder shouted into his radio, turning on his heel and shoving past his partner as they bolted down the hallway toward the stairwell.
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Within thirty seconds, heavy boot steps echoed outside, followed by the crisp, authoritative commands of New York City police officers shouting for everyone to drop their weapons.
The siege of Suite 402 was over.
