Chapter 7 - The Underworld's Gambit
Following the public downfall of Vanessa Hale, peace returned to Hudson Crest Medical Center—but the news that I was Mrs. Adrian Falcone had leaked to the highest levels of the city's elite.
While the medical staff treated me with profound respect, not because of Adrian’s fear, but because they had witnessed my unflinching bravery during the lockdown, the enemies of Falcone Holdings saw me differently.
They saw a vulnerability.
Don Vincente, the aging, ruthless patriarch of the Brooklyn Rossi syndicate, was burning with rage. His lieutenant, Matteo Rossi, had been saved by my hands, but Matteo had subsequently agreed to a federal plea deal, turning state's evidence against Vincente’s entire criminal empire.
Vincente blamed two people: Adrian Falcone and the ER nurse who had kept Matteo alive long enough to speak.
Three weeks after the hearing, a massive 10-car pileup was reported on the West Side Highway during a heavy rainstorm. Dozens of injured civilians were rushed into the Hudson Crest Emergency Department.
The ER was operating at maximum capacity. Sirens blared outside, stretchers lined the hallways, and every trauma nurse was pushed to their physical limit.
I was in Bay 3, stabilizing a young victim with a fractured femur, when a secondary alarm sounded near the ambulance loading dock.
"Maya!" Sarah shouted, sprinting over to me. "A transport van just arrived at the rear dock! They say they have three critical burn victims from the highway pileup, but they're refusing to unload until a senior trauma nurse comes out!"
My brow furrowed. "That's against protocol. Unstable patients must be brought inside immediately."
I grabbed a trauma kit and walked quickly down the rear service corridor toward the loading dock. Rain was pouring down in sheets outside the open bay doors. A dark, unmarked delivery van was idling near the ramp, its headlights cutting through the gray storm.
"I'm Specialist Whitmore," I called out, stepping onto the wet concrete dock. "Bring the patients inside!"
The rear doors of the van flew open.
There were no burn victims inside.
Four men in raincoats leaped out, carrying silenced submachine guns and a heavy canvas hood. Before I could draw my breath to scream, a heavy gloved hand slammed over my mouth, a sharp needle pricking the side of my neck.
May you like
A potent sedative flooded my bloodstream.
My vision blurred instantly. The sounds of the rain, the hospital sirens, and the distant shouts faded into pitch blackness as the world spun out of control.
