Chapter 6 - The Exit Route
Dante didn't shout. He pivoted on his heel, using his own broad back to shield both Paige and Elena, shoving Elena back into the alcove of the pediatric room. A muted thwip-thwip chewed through the drywall where Dante’s head had been a second earlier, plaster dust raining down like white ash in the red emergency light.
""Down! Stay on the floor!"" Dante commanded Elena, dropping to one knee beside the crib while keeping Paige tucked securely inside the fold of his left arm.
The baby began to wail, a thin, panicked cry that pierced through the stifled chaos of the hallway. Dante pulled his right hand from beneath his jacket. A matte-black Sig Sauer P365 emerged, the slide slick and devoid of markings. He clicked the safety off with his thumb, his breathing slowing down into the calm, rhythmic cadence of a soldier under fire.
""Dante, please, don't let them take her!"" Elena sobbed from the linoleum floor, her hands clasped over her ears.
""Nobody touches her,"" Dante whispered, his face inches from the screaming infant. ""Look at me, Paige. Quiet now. I’ve got you.""
The footsteps outside were disciplined, slow, and calculated. Two shooters. One covering high, one moving low. They were clearing rooms sequentially, moving toward bed four. Dante tracked their progress by the faint scrape of rubber soles against the scattered plaster dust. Five yards. Four yards.
Dante surged around the doorframe at knee-height. He fired twice, double-tapping the low man in the pelvic girdle before the contractor could bring his suppressed barrel around. The man collapsed with a sharp grunt. Dante adjusted his aim upward by six inches and squeezed the trigger a third time. The round caught the second shooter squarely beneath the chin, sending him sprawling backward into the nursing station.
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Dante stood up, the heat of the weapon radiating against his palm. He didn't check the bodies; he knew where his bullets landed. He turned back into the room, extending his hand to Elena. ""Get up. The stairs are clear, but not for long.""
Elena scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with terror as she looked at the dead men in the hall, then down at the baby in Dante’s arm. She nodded, wordless, and followed him out into the crimson-lit corridor. They reached the fire stairs, Dante kicking the door open with his heel. As they began their rapid descent toward the parking garage, a deep, heavy vibration rattled the concrete walls. An explosion detonated three floors below, cutting off their escape to the subterranean exits.
