Chapter 8 - THE WAREHOUSE CLINIC
The abandoned textile mill loomed in the fog of the harbor district. Inside, the sterile, blinding lights of a makeshift medical facility clashed violently with the decaying brick walls.
Sophia moved through the shadows of the loading dock, the gun heavy in her hands. Beside her was Maria, moving with the silent, lethal grace of a ghost.
They had left Elena with Adrian and the approaching paramedics. This was family business.
“Two guards at the main entrance,” Maria whispered, peering around a stack of rusted shipping containers. “Three inside the neonatal wing.”
Sophia looked at the woman who had birthed her. “Why did you leave me?” she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it.
Maria didn’t look away. “Because a child raised in the Rossi family is raised to be a monster. I wanted you to know what love felt like. What a normal life felt like. Your adopted father gave you that. I gave up my right to be your mother so you could have a soul.”
Sophia swallowed the lump in her throat. She gripped her weapon. “Let’s go get Elena’s baby.”
They moved in unison. Maria took the two guards at the door with silent, brutal efficiency, using a pair of stun batons to drop them before they could even draw their weapons.
They breached the hallway. Through the glass double doors at the end, Sophia saw him.
Marcus.
He was standing next to a portable incubator. Inside was a tiny, fragile newborn, hooked up to monitors. A doctor in a white coat was nervously packing medical supplies into a black duffel bag.
“Hurry up,” Marcus snapped, checking a diamond watch. “The helicopter is waiting.”
Sophia didn’t hesitate. She kicked the double doors open, raising the gun perfectly level with Marcus’s chest.
“Step away from the incubator, Marcus,” Sophia commanded, her voice steady and echoing with authority.
Marcus turned around. When he saw Sophia, a cruel, mocking smile spread across his face. But when he saw Maria step into the light beside her, the smile vanished.
“Maria,” Marcus whispered. He looked like he had seen a demon.
“Hello, little brother,” Maria said, raising her own weapon.
“You’re dead,” Marcus breathed.
“I’ve been dead for twenty years,” Maria replied. “But I came back to finish the job.”
Suddenly, Vance stepped out from an adjoining room, a tactical shotgun leveled at Sophia’s back.
“Drop the guns!” Vance roared.
Sophia froze. They were outflanked.
Marcus laughed, his confidence instantly returning. “You women always were too emotional. You thought you could walk in here and play hero? You’re just in time to watch me leave.”
He reached toward the incubator.
“I wouldn’t touch that, if I were you,” a deep, rough voice echoed from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
Adrian stood in the doorway. He was pale as a corpse, his dress shirt soaked in blood, leaning heavily against the doorframe. But his gun was raised, and his aim was dead steady.
May you like
And directly behind him stood a dozen heavily armed FBI tactical agents, their laser sights cutting through the room, all settling directly on Marcus and Vance.
“It’s over, Marcus,” Adrian rasped, a fierce, victorious smile on his lips. “You lost.”
