Chapter 3 - PROTOCOL OMEGA
Marcus stepped out of the booth, his demeanor entirely changed. He didn’t look at her wrist. He looked directly into her eyes. The easy bedside manner was gone, replaced by a rigid, terrifying urgency.
"Mrs. Hartford," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I need you to stay exactly where you are. Do not move. Do not make a sound. I am locking this door."
"What's happening?" Elena gasped, the pain in her arm momentarily eclipsed by a surging spike of adrenaline. "Is my baby okay?"
"Your baby is fine," Marcus said, turning the heavy deadbolt on the lead-lined door. "But your husband is Garrett Hartford. And my system just flashed a Protocol Omega."
Elena had no idea what that meant, but the sheer gravity in the technician's voice made the breath vanish from her lungs. Marcus pulled up a stool, sitting close to her, keeping his voice below a murmur. "The FBI placed a silent biometric and name flag on all medical networks in the tri-state area two years ago. They knew he was hurting you. They knew he isolated you. They’ve been waiting for you to end up in an ER, away from his private security."
"Why?" Elena’s voice broke. "Why does the FBI care about a domestic dispute?"
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"Because Garrett isn't just a real estate developer," Marcus said softly, his eyes flicking to the locked door. "He’s the primary money launderer for the Sinaloa cartel on the East Coast. And the only reason you are still alive is because of that baby."
The words slammed into her chest like physical blows. The charities. The late-night meetings. The wealth that seemed to multiply overnight. The terrifying, cold calculation in his eyes every time he hurt her. It all fractured and realigned into a horrific new picture. Before Elena could process the sheer magnitude of the lie she had been living, the heavy thud of a fist pounded against the X-ray room door.
