Chapter 2 - The Fire Escape Protocol
Thomas reacted before Nora could even scream. Without turning around, he shoved Nora backward into an alcove housing an emergency linen cart, placing his own body between her and the elevator. His right hand cleared his coat, not with a firearm, but with a dense, pressurized canister.
He triggered it directly toward the elevator doors. A blinding flare of chemical vapor exploded into the corridor, accompanied by a deafening, pressurized hiss. The men emerging from the lift stumbled back, coughing violently and firing wild, suppressed rounds into the ceiling tiles. White plaster rained down like toxic snow.
""Keep her head covered,"" Thomas ordered, his voice cutting through the ringing in Nora's ears.
He seized the heavy metal laundry cart, slamming it hard against the opposite doors to jam the corridor, and kicked open a narrow utility entrance marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Nora scrambled after him, pulling the edge of the swaddle over Maya's face to shield her from the stinging mist.
They tumbled into a concrete stairwell. The chill of the draft hit Nora's bare legs, sending involuntary tremors through her frame. Thomas didn't stop. He took the descending stairs three at a time, moving with an athletic grace that contradicted his heavy frame.
""Down. Fast,"" he muttered.
""The front doors have security,"" Nora panted, her post-labor exhaustion dragging at her muscles like lead weights. Every step sent a sharp ache radiating through her core. ""Julian’s father sits on the hospital board. They control the exits.""
""We aren't going to the front,"" Thomas said.
At the basement level, the air grew thick with the smell of industrial detergents and boiler steam. Thomas grabbed an oversized technician jacket hanging from a wall locker and threw it over Nora’s shoulders. ""Put your arms through. Wrap her inside it.""
She complied, her teeth chattering. The jacket offered warmth, but the fear gnawing at her stomach was far colder. ""Who were those men? They didn't look like hospital security.""
""They work for the Vance Consortium,"" Thomas said, testing the handle of an unmarked loading-dock door. ""Don't let the name confuse you. My father started the firm. My estranged brother runs it now. Arthur stole something from them ten years ago. They thought the secret died with him. But Julian’s family realized who your father was the moment your blood panel went through the hospital registry.""
He pushed the door open an inch. Outside, rain fell in unrelenting sheets against a row of parked delivery vans. A black SUV sat idling near the dumpster bay, its wipers sweeping steadily across the glass.
""That's our ride,"" Nora breathed, feeling a surge of hope.
Thomas stopped her before she could step forward. He grabbed her shoulder, his jaw tightening as he stared at the vehicle's rear bumper.
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""Don't move,"" he whispered. ""Look at the driver's side mirror.""
Nora squinted through the gloom. Reflected in the glass was not an empty seat or an ally, but the silhouetted barrel of a rifle aimed directly through the side window at their doorway.
