Chapter 7 - House of Mirrors
"You can't be serious!" Agent Torres shouted, stepping between Sterling and me. "This doctor just saved this child's life from an assassination attempt! We are in the middle of a federal bio-terrorism and child trafficking investigation!"
"This is a private medical institution, Agent Torres," CEO Sterling replied coldly. "Dr. Jenkins violated board protocols by refusing a valid medical transfer order and bringing unauthorized firearms into a pediatric ward. She is a liability. Escort her out."
Two security guards stepped toward me.
I looked at Clara, who was holding Leo’s hand. I looked at Miller, who gave me a subtle, almost imperceptible nod toward the emergency stairwell exit.
I didn't argue. I didn't scream.
I slowly pulled off my ID badge, set it on the nurse's station counter, and looked Sterling dead in the eye.
"You think your corporate money can cover this up?" I said softly. "When the federal indictments drop, Sterling, you're going to share a cell with Julian Vance."
I turned and walked toward the exit under security escort. But as soon as we crossed the threshold of the main lobby, Detective Miller created a distraction—shoving past the guards and pulling the main fire alarm lever.
Wail! Wail! Wail!
Strobe lights flashed, and the lobby erupted into instant panic as staff and visitors flooded toward the doors. In the confusion, Miller grabbed my arm, yanked me into a side maintenance door, and pulled me out to his unmarked cruiser parked in the emergency bay.
"Get in!" Miller yelled, jumping into the driver's seat.
I threw myself into the passenger seat as Miller slammed on the accelerator, screeching out of the hospital parking lot into the pouring Sonoran rain.
"Where are we going?" I asked, catching my breath.
"Paradise Valley," Miller said, flicking on his hidden strobe lights. "The police SWAT team is ten minutes away, but Vance has private security at that estate. If six-year-old Maya is inside with a cast on her leg, Vance might try to destroy the evidence—and her—before SWAT breaches the perimeter."
"He's going to clear the vault," I realized with a sudden, chilling clarity. "He knows the feds have the parcel from Leo's arm. He knows the secret is out. He's going to extract the bio-vials from Maya and cut his losses."
Miller pushed the cruiser past eighty miles per hour down the dark, rain-slicked highway.
"Not while I'm breathing," Miller growled.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the iron gates of 4400 Royal Palm Way. The estate was a sprawling, ultra-modern compound hidden behind high concrete walls and thick palm trees. The iron gates were wide open. tire tracks tore through the wet gravel driveway.
"The gates were rammed," Miller observed, pulling his service weapon. "Stay behind me, Sarah."
We crept up the long driveway toward the main mansion. The front doors were hanging off their hinges. Inside, the massive marble foyer was trashed—drawers yanked out, expensive paintings slashed, and papers scattered across the floor.
From the second-floor gallery, a high-pitched child’s scream echoed down the grand staircase.
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"Help! Mommy, please! It hurts!"
I didn't wait for Miller or the SWAT team. I sprinted up the marble stairs, following the screams down a long, dimly lit hallway toward the master suite.
