Chapter 10 - Race Against Time
We sprinted back to the town car, the sleet stinging our faces as we slammed the doors and roared out of the alley, tires spitting gravel and snow.
“Marcus, call the pediatric unit at St. Jude,” I ordered, my fingers trembling slightly as I dialed the secure direct line to the nurse’s station. “Tell them to lock down the floor immediately. Do not let anyone—staff, security, or visitors—into Norah’s room under any circumstances.”
The phone rang twice, three times, four times.
No answer.
“It’s ringing out, sir,” Marcus said, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the slick highway at dangerous speeds, ignoring every red light between us and the hospital. “The lines might be jammed or disabled.”
“Drive faster,” I commanded, staring out the frost-covered window as the skyline of Chicago blurred into streaks of gold and neon.
We had minutes—maybe seconds—before Sterling’s men reached that pediatric ward. Norah was alone, recovering from hypothermia and shock, holding the one thing these men were willing to kill for, completely unaware that the safety of the park bench had been an illusion.
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The town car screeched up the hospital emergency ramp, jumping the curb before sliding to a violent halt beneath the white canopy.
I threw open my door before the vehicle had even fully settled, my boots hitting the pavement as I sprinted toward the automatic glass doors, knowing that whatever waited for us inside would determine whether we saved an innocent child or walked straight into a trap.
