Chapter 60 - The Glass Labyrinth
Within three minutes, the tactical map flared red over Greenwich Village.
"We have an active, unauthorized medical-grade backup generator humming at 14 St. Luke's Place," the lead analyst reported, throwing the architectural schematics onto the central screen. "The building has been listed as condemned for twelve years, but the power draw matches an intensive care suite. Sarah, it’s eight minutes from the Brooklyn vault."
"We split the convoy," Marcus declared, buckling his tactical vest beneath his dark suit jacket. "Team Alpha takes Sarah under heavy escort to Brooklyn to retrieve the neutralizer. Team Bravo breaches St. Luke's Place and secures the perimeter."
"No," I cut in, my voice brooking no argument. "You can't breach that room with flashbangs and tactical force. If the Chimera protocol detects an abrupt atmospheric shift or if an IV line is dislodged, the child dies instantly. I have to go into that nursery myself with the neutralizer."
"Sarah, it’s an ambush," Marcus said, catching my shoulders and looking directly into my eyes. His gaze was fierce with protective instinct. "Whoever set this up timed it to your international gala. They wanted the entire world to watch you panic. They want you inside that room."
"I am a physician first, Marcus," I said softly, holding his gaze. "That child has forty-two minutes to live. He shares my father's DNA. He is completely innocent. If you want to protect me, cover my back. But I am carrying that vial through the door."
Marcus stared at me for three long seconds. The resolve in his jaw tightened, transforming into ironclad focus. "Five minutes to the Brooklyn vault. Move!"
The armored SUV screamed through Manhattan’s streets, siren blaring, escorted by four police motorcycles clearing a violent path through evening traffic. Rain began to slick the asphalt, reflecting the red and blue emergency flashers against the glass skyscrapers like streaks of spilled blood.
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Beside me, Valerie held my wrist. "Sarah... when your father died, the Upper East Side family burned his personal files. They claimed he had lost his mind, that his pediatric experiments were an embarrassment to the family name. That was why they treated you like an intruder. They were terrified that you had inherited his mind."
"I didn't just inherit his mind, Valerie," I whispered, watching the digital countdown on my phone sync with the live feed: *36:12... 36:11...* "I fixed the flaw he couldn't solve."
