Chapter 7 - The Hostage
Miller swung the heavy steel baton with brutal force against the padlock.
Metal clanged against metal in the echoing, water-filled chamber.
The lock shattered into pieces on the third strike.
I reached into the submerged cage and pulled the sputtering boy above the surface.
"I have him!" I gasped, kicking my legs to stay afloat.
"Officers, form a human chain up the stairs!" Miller ordered.
We passed the soaked, shivering children up the stairwell to the grate.
The tactical team above had finally brought in a heavy hydraulic saw.
Showers of sparks rained down on us as the saw bit through the iron grate.
The metal gave way, and the SWAT team hauled us out of the freezing water.
We collapsed onto the muddy grass outside, coughing and gasping for air.
Paramedics immediately swarmed the rescued children, wrapping them in thermal blankets.
I sat on the bumper of an ambulance, trembling violently from the cold and adrenaline.
"You did good, Doc," Miller said, handing me a dry towel.
"Are all the children accounted for?" I asked, scanning the chaotic scene.
"We got three out," Miller confirmed. "Plus Emmy and Lena at the hospital, that's five."
A sudden realization hit me like a physical blow to the chest.
I remembered what Emmy had told me in the emergency room.
"He keeps the broken things in the back room," I muttered out loud.
"What?" Miller asked, frowning.
"The back room," I repeated, standing up in a panic. "There were only cages in the main basement."
Before Miller could respond, a scream tore through the night.
It came from the tree line just beyond the police perimeter.
I turned to see a paramedic lying unconscious on the ground.
And standing over him was Silas, holding a massive hunting knife.
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His arm was wrapped tightly around the throat of the six-year-old boy we had just rescued.
"Nobody moves, or the kid dies right here!" Silas roared.
