Chapter 7 - The Patient in Room Twelve
Hospital security drew their weapons.
Dr. Harris moved my bed away from the door while the nurse checked every line connected to me.
Mara remained on speaker.
“Richard, how many people are coming?”
“I don’t know.”
The elevator doors opened outside.
No footsteps followed.
One security officer approached carefully.
The elevator was empty.
Inside sat a black champagne bottle from Adrian’s party.
A card was tied around its neck.
Dr. Harris read it through the hallway camera.
HAPPY NEW YEAR, MOTHER.
The officer did not touch it.
A bomb technician was called.
Then movement appeared near the stairwell.
A woman in navy scrubs pushed a medical cart onto the floor.
The ICU nurse beside me frowned.
“I don’t know her.”
The woman smiled at security.
“Medication delivery.”
One officer asked for identification.
She reached into her pocket.
Instead of a badge, she pulled out a small canister and released a cloud of white vapor.
The officers stumbled backward, coughing.
The woman ran toward Room Twelve.
Dr. Harris closed my door and pushed the bed against it.
“Ventilation off,” he ordered.
The nurse disabled the airflow.
Mara shouted into the phone.
“What’s happening?”
“Chemical agent in the hallway.”
The intruder reached Room Twelve.
Its door had remained mechanically locked despite the power failure.
She took out a cutting device.
Then another figure emerged from the elevator.
Adrian.
He wore a dark overcoat over his tuxedo and held a handkerchief over his mouth.
Thomas walked behind him in a respirator.
My son looked toward the hallway camera.
He knew I was watching.
He smiled.
“Mom, you always did choose terrible doctors.”
Dr. Harris turned off the display before Adrian could see our room.
The nurse whispered, “How did they get past the police?”
Mara answered.
“Thomas has federal credentials.”
Richard swore through the line.
“I should have stopped him years ago.”
Adrian shouted from the hallway.
“Dr. Harris, open my mother’s door.”
The doctor did not answer.
“I know she’s in there.”
Silence.
“Give me Eleanor, and we leave the other patient alive.”
Dr. Harris looked at me.
I shook my head.
Not because I wanted to sacrifice myself.
Because Adrian was lying.
Thomas needed the witness dead.
Adrian needed me dead.
They would kill both.
The intruder cut through Room Twelve’s lock.
A medical alarm sounded.
The door opened.
Adrian entered first.
Seconds later, he backed out.
His expression had changed.
Room Twelve was empty.
The bed remained warm.
The IV still dripped.
But the patient was gone.
Thomas grabbed him.
“Where is he?”
Adrian looked down the corridor.
A service door near the ICU supply room opened.
A man in a hospital gown stepped out, leaning heavily on a rolling IV stand.
His face was bruised.
One arm was bandaged.
Thomas froze.
The witness looked directly at him.
“You should’ve made sure I was dead.”
Richard’s voice came through our phone.
“Daniel.”
The patient in Room Twelve was Daniel Cross, Richard’s former security chief.
The man who warned Richard not to board the sabotaged plane five years earlier.
The man officially blamed for the crash.
Adrian raised a gun.
Daniel pushed the IV stand forward.
Its metal pole struck Adrian’s wrist.
The shot fired into the ceiling.
Hospital security rushed from the stairwell.
Thomas grabbed Adrian and pulled him toward the elevator.
The disguised nurse released another cloud of vapor.
Visibility vanished.
When the air cleared, Thomas was gone.
Adrian remained on the floor.
His gun had slid beneath the nurses’ station.
Daniel Cross stood over him.
Then Adrian reached inside his coat and pulled out a second weapon.
May you like
He aimed through the glass directly at my ICU room.
“Open the door,” he said, “or I kill everyone on this floor.”
