Chapter 16 - The Martyr's Choice
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Dominic left Chloe in the clinic with Dr. Thorne and two heavy guards stationed at the door. He promised he would return with the antidote before Tommy’s heart stopped.
As the heavy steel doors locked behind him, Chloe sat beside her brother’s unconscious body, holding his cold, clammy hand. The heart monitor beeped erratically, a terrifying countdown to a death she couldn't stop.
“He’s not going to make it, is he?” Chloe asked the doctor, her voice hollow.
Dr. Thorne sighed, adjusting the IV drip. “Dominic is a formidable man, Miss Adams. But breaking into a Russian compound with a depleted crew is a suicide mission. Even if he gets the antidote, he likely won't survive the extraction.”
Chloe stared at Tommy’s pale face. Dominic was marching to his death for a waitress he had met twenty-four hours ago. He was sacrificing his empire, his life, to save a degenerate gambler because he couldn't stand the thought of Chloe mourning her brother.
She couldn't let him do it.
Chloe stood up. She wiped the tears from her face, her sadness hardening into a cold, desperate resolve.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Chloe told the guards standing by the door.
The guards nodded, opening the heavy door and pointing down the sterile hallway. “Second door on the left, miss. Make it quick.”
Chloe walked down the hallway, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm in her chest. She didn't go to the bathroom. She bypassed it, slipping into a small laundry room near the rear exit of the facility. She found an old mechanic’s jacket, threw it over her blood-stained clothes, and pushed open the heavy emergency exit door.
The freezing Boston air hit her face. She was alone in the industrial district.
She pulled out her phone and dialed the only number she could think of. The number Tommy had scribbled on a notepad weeks ago when his gambling debts started piling up.
A heavy, Russian voice answered on the third ring. “Da?”
“I want to speak to Victor Volkov,” Chloe said, forcing her voice to remain steady, masking the absolute terror threatening to consume her.
“Who is this?” the voice demanded.
“This is Chloe Adams,” she said, staring out into the dark, snowy streets. “Tell Victor I am walking to the old shipping yards right now. Tell him if he calls off his men, and gives me the antidote for my brother, I will give myself up to him peacefully.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
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“Wait at the corner of 5th and Main,” the Russian finally replied, a cruel smirk evident in his tone. “Do not move. If you run, your brother dies.”
Chloe hung up the phone. She had made a deal with the devil to save the monster who was trying to protect her.
