Chapter 11 - The Fortress at Blackwood
Deep in the pine forests of the Catskills, Blackwood Sanatorium stood like a jagged black tooth against the stormy sky. Heavy barbed wire encircled the perimeter, guarded by private military contractors armed with assault rifles.
In the subterranean surgical bunker three floors beneath the earth, Lois was strapped to a sterile metal gurney. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, reflecting off rows of stainless-steel surgical instruments.
Christian Burke stood over her, humming a classical melody as he pulled on latex surgical gloves. In the adjacent glass chamber, sixteen-year-old Clara lay pale and unconscious, IV lines connected to monitors that beeped in a fragile, irregular rhythm.
""You have your mother's rare antigen markers, Lois,"" Christian remarked casually, picking up an oversized bone-marrow extraction needle. ""A multi-million-dollar biological profile. A client in Dubai paid eight figures for a perfect match. Your sister wasn't enough, but together? You two will fund my retirement in Zurich.""
""You're a monster,"" Lois spat, straining against the leather straps binding her wrists.
""I am an artist of survival,"" Christian smiled coldly, resting the needle point against her hip bone. ""And your savior Julian? He’s probably signing over his corporate shares to my father right now.""
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Suddenly, the underground bunker shook with seismic force. The ceiling concrete cracked, raining dust onto the sterile tray.
A high-pitched siren wailed through the facility’s intercom, followed by an automated alert: Perimeter breached. Detonation detected at main gate. Sector four compromised.
