Chapter 6 - RACE AGAINST TIME
The siren wailed as Teresa’s cruiser tore through the rain-slicked streets of downtown Minneapolis, breaking every traffic law in the book. The neon lights of the city blurred into streaks of red and yellow against the rain-streaked glass.
"Charles, lock down the ICU floor!" Teresa shouted into her radio-linked phone. "Call hospital security! Do not let anyone into Lillian’s room!"
"I'm already at her door," Charles’s voice came back, strained and breathless against the background noise of hospital alarms. "I've barricaded the entrance with a heavy supply cart. But Teresa, if he has hospital credentials or a master key from his past board affiliations, he can override the electronic locks."
"Hold the line, Charles! We're two minutes away!"
Inside the private hospital, the fourth-floor corridor was eerily silent. The fluorescent lights flickered softly in the damp evening air.
Dr. Charles Fletcher stood inside Lillian’s room, his back pressed against the heavy wooden door. He had dragged a massive medication dispensing cart across the threshold, wedging it tightly beneath the handle.
Lillian lay awake in the bed, her eyes wide with terror. "Charles... you shouldn't be here. He'll come for you too."
"Let him come," Charles said, his voice steady, though his heart hammered like a jackhammer against his ribs. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a heavy metal surgical retractor—not a weapon, but the only heavy object he had managed to grab from the nurses' station. "For forty years, I called him my best friend. It’s time I settled the debt."
Suddenly, the electronic keypad on the outside of the door beeped.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A green light flashed. Someone was entering a master override code.
Charles braced his weight against the supply cart, his muscles screaming. "Warren! I know it's you! It's over! The police are on their way!"
The door handle rattled violently. Then, a cold, familiar voice echoed through the wood from the hallway.
"Step away from the door, Charles," Warren’s voice was disturbingly calm, devoid of any warmth or humanity. "You're a brilliant surgeon, but you always did meddle in things that didn't concern you."
"You tried to murder your wife, Warren!" Charles shouted back, pressing harder against the barrier. "Your life is over! Your pharmacies, your money, your freedom—it's all gone!"
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"My freedom is right outside this door," Warren replied coldly.
With a sudden, violent crash, the door slammed inward against the barricade. The heavy supply cart groaned, sliding a few inches across the polished linoleum floor as Warren’s shoulder slammed into the wood from the outside.
