Chapter 5 - The Lockdown
The sterile waiting room instantly descended into complete chaos.
Nurses screamed and abandoned their workstations, sprinting toward the emergency stairwells.
The heavy steel fire doors at the end of the corridor automatically slammed shut, locking down the floor.
My father grabbed Sarah by the arm and forcefully shoved her toward the main exit.
"Move, now!" my father barked, completely abandoning his sophisticated facade.
The two expensive lawyers practically trampled an elderly patient to escape through the sliding glass doors.
I did not run away from the surgical wing.
I ran directly toward it.
I frantically slammed my fists against the heavy steel fire doors separating me from my son.
Through the reinforced wire-glass window, I could see masked men in dark tactical gear kicking open patient rooms.
They were systematically searching the recovery ward, checking the medical charts on every single bed.
They were looking for Leo.
I remembered the tracking chip embedded inside my son's shoulder.
These men did not need to check charts; they were following a precise digital signal straight to him.
I backed away from the locked doors, my mind racing through terrifying survival scenarios.
I spotted a red emergency fire axe mounted behind a glass box on the wall.
I did not hesitate for a single second.
I took off my heavy boot and smashed the thick safety glass into a thousand sharp pieces.
I grabbed the heavy red axe and swung it violently at the electronic lock of the fire door.
The magnetic seal shattered in a shower of blue sparks, and the heavy door slowly swung open.
I crept into the darkened surgical corridor, gripping the axe handle so tightly my knuckles turned white.
The muffled sounds of heavy boots stomping on linoleum echoed from the pediatric recovery room.
I quietly peeked around the corner, my heart pounding in my throat.
Two massive men holding suppressed rifles were standing over Leo's unconscious body.
One of the men pulled a terrifyingly large combat knife from his tactical vest.
"The boss wants the chip removed before we extract the package," the man grunted.
He reached out and roughly grabbed my sleeping son by his bruised shoulder.
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I did not scream, I did not cry, and I did not ask for help.
I stepped out from behind the corner and buried the heavy fire axe directly into the back of the mercenary's knee.
