Chapter 9 - The Final Showdown
The air inside the executive office was thick with tension. Andrew stepped closer, his thumb pulling back the hammer on his silver pistol.
“Do you really think you can shoot a federal officer and a high-profile attorney in the middle of downtown Chicago?” Marcus asked calmly, holding the hard drives tight against his side.
“In forty-five minutes,” Andrew sneered, “the court order for Jonathan’s termination will be finalized by Director Vance at the hospital. By the time anyone finds your bodies in this office, I will own this company, and Victoria will be the sole legal trustee. We will call it an armed burglary gone wrong.”
From behind Marcus, Maria looked at the wall near her elbow.
Directly beside the heavy walnut desk sat the master fire alarm override switch—a bright red box designed to release high-pressure carbon dioxide suppressant throughout the floor in case of an electrical fire.
Without hesitating for a single second, Maria reached out and slammed her hand against the emergency glass.
CRASH!
A deafening siren erupted through the entire sixty-story building!
Instantly, thick white carbon dioxide fog blasted from the ceiling vents with a roaring hiss, blinding Andrew and his security guards!
“Shoot them!” Andrew screamed, coughing frantically as the freezing gas filled the room.
Marcus grabbed Maria by the arm, dragging her through the blinding white fog toward the private exit door behind the desk. They burst out into the service stairwell just as the automated security doors slammed shut behind them, locking Andrew and his guards inside the suffocating executive suite!
They sprinted down three flights of stairs to the maintenance floor, where Marcus’s security team was waiting. Ten minutes later, their black van roared out of the loading dock into the rainy Chicago night, speeding toward St. Vincent Medical Center.
Meanwhile, back at the hospital, the clock was ticking down to its final minutes.
Inside Room 412, Victoria Reed stood beside Director Vance. A new, corrupt medical team had disconnected the eye-tracking computer monitor and rolled in a mechanical palliative console.
“Disconnect the ventilation feed now, Doctor,” Victoria commanded coldly, checking her diamond wristwatch. “It is 1:55 AM. The trust expires in five minutes.”
Dr. Harris stood near the door, blocked by three armed hospital security guards who had placed him under administrative restraint.
“You’re committing murder, Victoria!” Dr. Harris shouted furiously. “He’s conscious! He’s aware!”
Victoria didn't even look at him. She reached over the bed, looking down into her husband’s open eyes.
“Goodbye, Jonathan,” she whispered with a terrible, triumphant smile. “You should have died three years ago.”
She reached out her hand toward the main power switch of the life-support unit—
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BOOM!
The heavy double doors of Room 412 were kicked open with violent force!
