Chapter 7 - EXPLOSION IN THE NIGHT|
"Marcus, stop!" I screamed into the phone, frantically dialing his number.
BOOM!
The deafening explosion shook the glass windows of my ninth-floor ICU room. A bright orange plume of fire erupted from the parking structure below, lighting up the pitch-black night sky.
The alarm sirens inside the hospital began to blare in a terrifying unison.
"Code Red! Code Red! Fire in the east parking garage!" the intercom blared.
The two Marshals outside my door drew their sidearms, their eyes darting around the hallway in high alert. "Stay inside, Miss Hannah!" one of them yelled over the chaotic blare of the alarm.
I pulled myself toward the window, looking down into the courtyard. Marcus’s car was a ball of roaring flames. My stomach churned with nausea and grief. They had executed a decorated detective right outside a hospital just to stop him from reaching that drive.
Suddenly, the lights in the ICU flickered once, twice, and completely died.
Emergency red backup lights clicked on, casting long, bloody shadows across the walls.
"Power's cut!" the Marshal shouted. "Maintain positions!"
Footsteps—heavy, deliberate, and paced—echoed from the stairwell at the end of the hallway. It wasn't the hurried frantic running of hospital staff escaping a fire. It was the synchronized march of professional mercenaries.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A silenced gunshot hissed through the darkness outside my door.
Phfft.
One of the Marshals gasped, falling heavily against the drywall before collapsing onto the floor.
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"Hostiles!" the second Marshal yelled, firing two rounds down the dark corridor before another suppressed round caught him in the chest.
I was trapped in a body cast, completely defenseless, as the heavy wooden door of my room slowly swung open.
