Chapter 9 - The Pediatrician's Office
The rain lashed against the windshield of the silver sedan as I sped down Route 9.
My mind was a whirlwind of rage, fear, and desperate calculations.
They wanted Noah's medical files from his private pediatrician, Dr. Aris.
Because Noah had a rare blood type and a specific genetic allergy, giving him the wrong medication could be fatal.
They needed his records to keep him alive.
Which meant my son was still breathing.
I pulled into the dark parking lot of Dr. Aris's clinic.
The building was closed, the windows pitch black.
“I am here,” I said into the phone.
“Break the glass,” the voice ordered.
“Get the hard drive from the server room.”
I grabbed a tire iron from the trunk and smashed the clinic’s glass door.
The security alarm immediately began blaring into the night.
I ignored it, running down the hallway to the server room.
I kicked the door open and found the main computer.
It took me two minutes to rip the hard drive out of the machine.
“I have it,” I yelled over the alarm.
“Good,” the voice said.
“Drive to the abandoned warehouse at the end of Pier 4.”
“Come alone, or your family is dead.”
I ran back to the car, the sirens of approaching police cars wailing in the distance.
I peeled out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a squad car.
The drive to Pier 4 took exactly twelve excruciating minutes.
The warehouse was a massive, rusted structure looming over the black water of the ocean.
I parked the car and stepped out, holding the hard drive tightly in my hand.
The massive steel doors of the warehouse groaned open.
Standing inside, surrounded by armed men, was my mother, Linda.
She looked at me without a single ounce of guilt in her eyes.
“I told you he would do it,” she said to the man standing next to her.
It was the man with the scar.
He was holding a medical bassinet.
Inside it, wrapped in blankets, was Noah.
And tied to a chair in the corner of the room was Emily.
She was awake, crying through a gag in her mouth.
“Give us the drive, Ethan,” my mother said coldly.
“It was nothing personal, you just shouldn't have come home early.”
I took a step forward, raising the hard drive in the air.
“Let them go first,” I demanded.
The man with the scar chuckled, pulling out a suppressed pistol.
“That wasn't the deal, Ethan.”
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He aimed the weapon directly at Emily’s head.
“Drop the drive, or I paint the wall with her.”
