Chapter 4 - The Transfer Trap
"You can't move him!" I shouted, my voice echoing down the sterile hospital hallway.
Several nurses turned to look, but Detective Carter put a hand on my shoulder, guiding me into an empty consultation room to avoid drawing attention.
"Listen to me carefully, Mrs. Mercer," Carter whispered urgently. "If we make a scene right now, Vanguard’s legal team will tie us up in injunctions while their private transport unit takes Daniel out of our jurisdiction. Julian Vance owns half the medical board in this state."
"He’s my husband! I have medical power of attorney!" I argued, tears of rage springing to my eyes.
"And Dr. Vance signed an emergency transfer order claiming St. Jude’s isn't equipped for high-level neurological trauma treatment," Carter explained, pulling out a tablet. "Look at this order. It was stamped twenty minutes ago. The ambulance transporting Daniel isn't a city unit. It’s a private transport vehicle owned by Apex Medical Systems—a subsidiary of Vanguard Bio-Tech."
They weren't moving Daniel to save him. They were moving him to control him—or worse, to make sure he never woke up to testify.
"Where are they taking him?" I asked, my voice deadly calm as panic gave way to cold determination.
"A private facility outside the city limits called Blackwood Medical Pavilion," Carter said. "I’ve dispatched two patrol units to intercept the transport, but Vance’s lawyers are already filing court orders claiming police interference in a medical emergency."
"I don't care about court orders," I said, grabbing my purse. "I'm going after him."
"You can't go alone, Evelyn," Carter warned. "Whoever attacked your house didn't leave any physical fingerprints. They are professional, precise, and ruthless. If you step in their way, you become a target."
"I am already a target!" I pulled out my phone and showed him the threat text message I had received on my lawn.
Carter’s eyes widened as he read the message. "They are tracking your location right now. Hand me your phone."
I handed it to him. Carter pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and handed me a small, black burner phone from his jacket pocket.
"Use this," he said. "Only my line is programmed into it. I’m placing two officers at Chloe’s door right now. She will be guarded 24/7. As for you... if you’re going to Blackwood, you need someone who knows how Vanguard operates from the inside."
"Who?" I asked.
Carter took a breath. "Your husband had an informant inside Vanguard. A lead scientist named Marcus Reed. He’s the one who gave Daniel the classified audit files."
Ten minutes later, I was standing in the hospital parking garage, waiting near a dark gray sedan. A man in his late thirties with dark hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and an anxious expression stepped out from the shadows.
"Evelyn?" he asked nervously, looking around the empty concrete structure.
"Marcus Reed?" I asked.
"Yes," Marcus said, his voice shaking. "Daniel spoke about you all the time. God, Evelyn... I’m so sorry. I told Daniel to drop the investigation three weeks ago. I told him Julian Vance didn't play by normal rules."
"What did Daniel find, Marcus?" I stepped closer, staring him dead in the eye. "Tell me the truth. My family is lying in blood and hospital beds. What is Vanguard doing?"
Marcus swallowed hard, clutching a black leather briefcase tightly against his chest.
"Vanguard isn't developing a new diabetes drug like they claimed to investors," Marcus whispered, leaning in so close I could smell the stale tobacco on his breath. "They created a synthetic nerve toxin designed for military contracts. They were testing low-dose aerosol versions on unsuspecting patients in local health clinics."
My throat tightened. "Low-dose aerosols..."
"Yes," Marcus confirmed, his face pale in the dim light. "The chemical sweet smell in your house today wasn't an accident. It was the toxin. Daniel found the trial logs, and when he threatened to take them to the Department of Justice... Vance decided to silence him."
Marcus opened his briefcase slightly, showing me a silver USB drive inside.
"Everything Daniel gathered is on this drive," Marcus said. "The test results, the victim names, and the offshore bank accounts Vance used to pay off federal inspectors."
Suddenly, the screech of tires roared through the concrete parking garage.
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A black SUV with dark-tinted windows rounded the corner at high speed, its high beams blinding us.
"Get in!" Marcus screamed, shoving me into his gray sedan just as a dark-clothed man leaned out of the SUV’s passenger window, holding a silenced firearm.
