Chapter 4 - The Plastic Room
David hit the brakes hard, throwing his arm across my chest to keep us steady.
The police cruiser wasn't coming for us.
It sped right past our SUV, its sirens wailing as it headed toward our house.
I exhaled a shaky breath, realizing we had narrowly avoided capture.
David immediately turned down a dark, narrow alleyway to get off the main road.
He parked behind an abandoned strip mall and cut the engine.
He said we couldn't drive this car anymore now that the plates were flagged.
I asked him what Marcus and Sarah were actually looking for.
David confessed that his son was the sole heir to a massive offshore trust fund.
The biometric seal required to access it was somehow linked to the baby's DNA.
Marcus was bankrupt and desperate to get his hands on that money.
I pulled out the soggy hotel key sleeve from my pocket.
I reminded David about the handwriting and the name of his deceased wife.
I suggested we go to that hotel room to find out what Sarah was hiding.
David agreed, knowing it was our only lead.
We abandoned the SUV and walked two miles through the freezing rain.
I kept my coat wrapped tightly around the baby, shielding him from the weather.
We finally reached the cheap, rundown motel on the edge of the city limits.
The neon sign buzzed loudly above the damp parking lot.
We found Room 114 on the ground floor, hidden behind a broken ice machine.
David checked the handle, but it was locked tight.
He wrapped his jacket around his fist and smashed the small window next to the door.
He reached inside and unlatched the deadbolt.
We pushed the door open and stepped into the pitch-black room.
David reached for the light switch and flipped it up.
The fluorescent bulbs flickered to life, revealing a nightmare.
The entire room was draped in thick, clear plastic sheeting from floor to ceiling.
It looked exactly like a sterile kill room.
Surgical tools were neatly lined up on a metal tray on the bed.
A medical incubator sat in the corner, humming quietly.
I took a step back, horrifying realization washing over me.
They weren't just trying to track the baby.
They were planning to perform surgery on him.
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Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open.
Sarah stepped out, perfectly calm, holding a suppressed pistol leveled right at my head.
