Chapter 7 - The Blackmail
Gabriel moved with the lethal efficiency of a general mobilizing for war.
Within four minutes, three black armored Suburbans were screaming through the rain-soaked streets toward Queens.
Gabriel sat in the rear seat with Lily pressed against his chest, his men loading heavy magazines in the front.
Claire sat across from them, her hands shaking violently as she stared at her cracked phone screen.
A single text message had arrived from an unknown number thirty seconds after they left Tribeca.
It was a live video feed of Room 412 at Saint Jude’s Memorial.
Julianna stood beside Margaret Donnelly’s hospital bed, holding the main oxygen regulator valve between two manicured fingers.
"If you don't bring the girl to Pier Forty-Two within thirty minutes, I turn the dial," Julianna’s voice said through the speaker.
"And do not bring your hit squad, Gabriel."
"Salvatore Moretti has fifty men surrounding the pediatric wing right now."
"One siren, and the entire floor goes up in flames."
Gabriel tapped the driver’s shoulder, his jaw locked like a vise.
"Reroute to the Queensboro Bridge," Gabriel ordered quietly.
"We take the access road."
Claire looked up, her eyes burning with fierce determination.
"She said Pier Forty-Two."
"Why are we going toward the hospital?"
"Because Julianna is a sociopath, but she isn't stupid," Gabriel replied, checking the slide on his weapon.
"She isn't at the hospital."
"That video feed is a pre-recorded loop from the security servers she hacked yesterday."
"How do you know that?" Claire asked.
"Look at the window in the background of the video," Gabriel said, pointing to the screen.
"It is pouring rain outside in Queens right now."
"In that video, the sun is setting over the East River."
Lily looked up from Gabriel’s lap, her small voice cutting through the tension inside the armored vehicle.
"The silver hawk flies when the bridge turns red," Lily recited in a clear, unbroken cadence.
May you like
Claire gasped, recognizing the line instantly.
It was the second verse of the lullaby her mother had written thirty years ago in the mountains.
