Chapter 11 - Blood on the Concrete
Julian didn't back down. He set his phone on a high metal conduit, casting a wide, angular cone of light across the basement floor. He slowly slipped off his charcoal suit jacket, tossing it aside, and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves over muscular, corded forearms.
"Two thugs and a washed-up executive," Julian murmured, his gaze locking onto the first mercenary. "You really should have brought an army, Marcus."
The first man lunged forward, throwing a vicious right hook aimed at Julian's temple. Julian ducked beneath the blow with the precision of a trained boxer, driving a brutal elbow directly into the man's ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the chamber, followed by a wheezing gasp as the mercenary crumpled to his knees.
The second man drew a tactical knife, the serrated blade catching the light. He slashed horizontally, tearing through Julian's shirt, grazing his ribs with a line of fire.
Julian didn't flinch. Pain was nothing compared to the sound of his daughter’s fading heartbeat upstairs. He grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it violently until the bone snapped, sending the knife clattering across the concrete. Julian drove his knee upward into the man's face, dropping him unconscious to the floor.
Julian turned slowly toward Marcus.
Marcus backed away, raising the heavy iron wrench with both hands, his arrogance dissolving into sheer, unadulterated panic. "Julian... stay back! We're family! We have the same blood!"
"You cut the power to a room full of dying babies," Julian said, stepping forward with murderous calm. "You aren't family. You're an infection."
Marcus swung the wrench with all his might. Julian didn't even try to dodge; he caught the metal shaft mid-swing with his left hand, absorbing the stinging shock, and wrenched it free from Marcus's grip. With his right hand, Julian seized Marcus by the throat, slamming him against the concrete wall.
"The manual bypass," Julian snarled, his fingers tightening around Marcus's windpipe. "Where is the emergency auxiliary relay? Tell me, or I swear to God I will bury you under this foundation."
Marcus gagged, clawing desperately at Julian’s vice-like grip, his face turning purple. "The... the green panel... behind the main transformer... pull the manual lever..."
Julian dropped him like a sack of garbage. Marcus collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, gasping for air.
Julian sprinted to the back of the chamber, ripping open the green metal box. Inside was a heavy mechanical lever. He grabbed it with both hands and pulled down with all his weight.
Sparks flew. The massive secondary turbine sputtered, coughed, and with a deafening roar of diesel combustion, roared back to life.
Above him, the overhead fluorescent bulbs flickered and blazed with light. The ventilation hummed. The power was restored.
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Julian grabbed his phone and jacket, turning toward the stairs. But as he reached the door, he heard Marcus laughing from the floor—a wet, hysterical cackle.
"You're too late, nephew," Marcus wheezed, wiping blood from his chin. "Eleanor isn't waiting for the child to die. She went up to the NICU while we were down here. With an empty syringe."
