Chapter 7 - The Trial of the Nurse
The third floor of St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital was an eerie ghost town of darkened recovery rooms and humming vending machines.
Rachel sprinted down the corridor, Tommy stumbling blindly behind her, while Matteo led the way with his Beretta drawn, checking every intersection with professional military precision.
“Left here,” Matteo hissed, pointing down a narrow hallway lined with administrative offices. “Room 312 should be at the very end.”
They reached the door in seconds. Matteo tried the handle, but it was locked electronically.
“Stand back,” Matteo muttered, raising his boot to kick the reinforced wood.
“Wait!” Rachel whispered, stepping forward. She pulled the titanium key card Daniel had given her from her pocket and pressed it against the digital keypad beside the door.
Bip.
The green LED light flashed, and the heavy oak door clicked open.
They slipped inside, Matteo locking the door behind them and shoving a heavy filing cabinet against the handle for good measure.
Dr. Alan Harrison’s office looked less like a doctor’s workspace and more like a high-end corporate command center. Leather furniture, dark mahogany bookshelves, and a massive floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the rainy Chicago skyline.
“Find the safe,” Matteo ordered, sweeping the room with his weapon. “Tommy, stop crying and check the desk drawers for flash drives or paper records.”
Tommy nodded frantically, tearing through the drawers while Rachel gently laid baby Leo down on a cushioned medical examination table in the corner. The baby stirred, letting out a soft whimper, but Rachel quickly placed her hands firmly around his rib cage, applying that steady, deep pressure that acted as his anchor.
Within seconds, Leo’s breathing slowed, and he drifted back into a deep, peaceful sleep.
“I found it!” Tommy whispered, holding up a small, heavy black metal panel behind a framed medical diploma on the wall. “There’s a digital keypad here!”
Matteo stepped over, narrowing his eyes at the keypad. “Harrison’s office. It’ll be a six-digit code. Dates, anniversaries—”
“Wait,” Rachel said, her eyes catching a framed photograph on the desk. It was a picture of Dr. Harrison standing beside a smiling woman and a young boy, beneath a plaque that read St. Jude’s Research Grant - 2018. “Look at the date on the plaque. And look at the boy’s birthday necklace in the photo.”
Matteo punched the numbers into the keypad: 10-14-18.
Beep-boop-click.
The heavy steel door of the wall safe swung open.
Inside sat a single, encrypted military-grade hard drive, alongside a stack of heavy manila folders labeled with a familiar red stamp: PROJECT AEGIS - RUSSO SYNDICATE TRIAL.
Matteo grabbed the hard drive and the folders, his eyes widening as he skimmed the top page. “Holy mother of God. It wasn't just a hit, Rachel. Harrison sold the convoy routes to the Greyson family in exchange for a half-million-dollar buyout and control of the hospital’s illegal organ-trafficking shell accounts.”
Before Tommy could even process what that meant, the phone on Harrison’s desk suddenly blinked to life, flashing a silent red light.
Then, the office speakers crackled, and a smooth, cultured voice echoed through the room.
"Well, well, well. It seems the rat’s nest has visitors."
May you like
It was Dr. Alan Harrison.
"Drop the hard drive, Mr. Bell," the doctor’s voice purred over the intercom, dripping with mock hospitality. "Or I push the button that shuts down the emergency backup generators across the entire pediatric wing—including the incubator keeping baby Russo alive."
