Chapter 2 - The Battle for Trauma Bay One
Blake didn't waste another second. He stood up, lifting five-year-old Lily into his arms, and walked straight past the security desk toward the restricted trauma wing.
"Sir! You can't go back there!" Nurse Brenda yelled, jumping up from her chair.
Blake turned his head, his eyes burning with an intense, authoritative fire that stopped the nurse in her tracks. "I am Blake Montgomery. My company owns the logistics and medical management software this entire hospital operates on. Get Chief of Surgery Dr. Vance on the line right now, or I will buy this hospital by midnight and fire everyone standing in this hallway."
The hallway went dead silent. Nurse Brenda scrambled for the desk phone immediately.
Blake pushed through the double doors into Trauma Bay One.
Clara lay on the narrow gurney under harsh halogen lights. Her face was deathly pale, her breathing faint and ragged as a ventilator pushed air into her lungs. Monitors beeped frantically around her as Dr. Carter and three nurses worked to stabilize her blood pressure.
"Mr. Montgomery!" Dr. Carter snapped, turning around. "This is an active trauma zone! You need to take the child outside!"
"She has an internal hemorrhage," Blake said, reading the telemetry monitor with the speed of a man who had designed the diagnostic interface himself. "Her systolic pressure is dropping below seventy. Why isn't she in an operating room?"
Dr. Carter sighed heavily, looking frustrated. "Her intake status is unverified. She has no insurance on file, and the chief administrator on call hasn't cleared the specialized surgical team for non-funded emergency transfers—"
"I don't give a damn about insurance!" Blake roared, his voice echoing off the tile walls. "Get the head of vascular surgery down here right now! I am taking full financial responsibility for every breath this woman takes!"
Before Dr. Carter could answer, the glass door opened, and a sharp-looking man in a tailored gray suit stepped inside, flanked by two hospital security guards.
It was Arthur Sterling—the chief administrative officer of Boston General and a long-time political ally of Blake's father, Richard Montgomery.
"Blake," Sterling said smoothly, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. "I heard there was a disturbance. You shouldn't be back here."
"Arthur," Blake said, stepping between Sterling and Clara's bed. "Call Dr. Vance. Get Clara into Surgery Suite Three immediately."
Sterling looked at the monitor, then glanced down at the battered plastic library card on the counter. A cold, knowing smirk crossed his lips.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Blake," Sterling said quietly. "Your father gave strict instructions four hours ago regarding this patient."
Blake froze, his blood turning to ice. "What did you say?"
"Your father's legal team flagged Clara Anderson's name in the state medical database the moment she was picked up by the ambulance," Sterling whispered, leaning in so the nurses couldn't hear. "Richard knows she's back in Boston. He knows about the child. And he has made it very clear that Montgomery Innovations cannot afford a scandal involving an illegitimate heir right before tomorrow morning's ten-billion-dollar merger."
Blake felt a terrifying rage surge through his veins. His own father had tracked Clara down, denied her emergency care, and was letting her die in an ER bay to protect a corporate deal.
"Get out of my way, Arthur," Blake said, his voice dropping into a register that made the security guards shift uncomfortably.
"Or what?" Sterling scoffed. "You're a CEO, Blake. Not a surgeon. You can't override hospital administrative protocol without a court order."
Lily clung tightly to Blake's neck, burying her face in his shoulder. "Daddy... is Mommy going to be okay?"
Blake looked at his daughter, then looked at his dying wife. The corporate executive died inside him, and a father was born.
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"Watch me," Blake said.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his smartphone, and tapped a red button on a private encrypted app.
