Chapter 15 - The Midnight Surgeon
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The "underground clinic" was located beneath a supposedly abandoned meatpacking plant in the industrial district. The heavy steel doors opened to reveal a sterile, brightly lit surgical suite that smelled intensely of bleach and iodine.
Dr. Elias Thorne, affectionately known in the underworld as "The Butcher," was already waiting. He was a disgraced former cardiovascular surgeon who now made his living patching up bullet holes for the Boston syndicate.
Dominic and Silas carried Tommy onto the stainless steel operating table. Tommy was fully unconscious now, his breathing shallow and rattling, his skin turning a terrifying shade of gray.
“Neurotoxin,” Dominic barked at the doctor. “Russian origin. Probably a digitalis derivative mixed with heavy metals. He’s been exposed for at least two hours.”
Dr. Thorne didn't ask questions. He immediately began hooking Tommy up to monitors and IV lines, moving with terrifying, clinical precision.
“I need to flush his blood completely,” Thorne said, prepping a massive dialysis machine. “But I don't have the specific antivenom for a Russian designer poison, Dominic. I can slow it down, but his heart is going to give out before the machine can clean him.”
Chloe stood in the corner of the room, her hands pressed over her mouth, sobbing silently. Dominic walked over to her, his own blood still staining his shirt.
“There is an antidote,” Dominic said quietly, making sure the doctor didn't hear.
Chloe looked up, a spark of desperate hope in her eyes. “Where? I’ll buy it. I’ll do anything.”
“You can't buy it,” Dominic said grimly. “Volkov creates his own toxins. The only place the antidote exists is in the medical bay of Volkov’s private compound in the North End.”
Chloe’s hope shattered. Volkov’s compound was a fortress. And Dominic’s forces were currently scattered and depleted after the penthouse attack.
“So we just watch him die,” she whispered, the reality crushing her.
Dominic reached out, gently wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. It was the most tender gesture she had ever seen from the ruthless mob boss.
“I told you I was going to protect you, Chloe,” Dominic said, his dark eyes burning with a fierce, unyielding fire. “And protecting you means protecting the only family you have left. Silas.”
Silas stepped forward from the doorway. “Boss?”
“Prep the remaining assault team,” Dominic ordered, racking the slide of his pistol. “We are going to Volkov’s compound. We are going to rip the front gates off their hinges, and we are going to take the antidote.”
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“Dominic, no,” Chloe grabbed his arm. “It’s suicide! He has an army! You’re already injured!”
“I am the King of Boston, Chloe,” Dominic said, a terrifying, arrogant smile touching his lips. “It’s time I remind the Russians why they used to fear the dark.”
