Chapter 6 - The Traitor Within
"The air vents!" Claire yelled, covering her nose immediately. "It’s carbon monoxide mixed with aniline vapor! Sophia, cover Leonardo’s face with a wet cloth!"
Sophia gasped, grabbing a bottle of sterile water and drenching a baby blanket, wrapping it snugly over her newborn's face.
Dominic drew his gun and rushed to the vault control panel, firing three heavy rounds into the electronic lock casing. Sparks flew, but the reinforced titanium emergency seals remained locked tight from the outside control room.
"Marko!" Dominic shouted into his collar radio. "Marko, respond!"
Static crackled through the earpiece. A smooth, cold voice cut through the noise—a voice that didn't belong to Marko.
"Marko is currently unconscious on the floor of the control room, Don Moretti," the voice said through the vault intercom.
Dominic’s eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Dr. Vance."
Claire gasped. Dr. Vance? The respected head of the Moretti private medical team?
"I must admit, Nurse Bennett, you have been a remarkably persistent thorn in my side," Vance’s calm, aristocratic voice echoed through the speakers. "If you hadn't noticed the lot number in the hospital, the baby would have died quietly, and I would have received my twenty million dollar payout from Viktor Volkov without firing a single bullet."
"You sold out my family, Vance?" Dominic spat, his voice laced with pure murder. "I gave you everything. I funded your research, paid off your debts!"
"And Volkov offered me enough wealth to retire in Switzerland without ever having to bow to a crime lord again!" Vance retorted coldly. "Volkov’s assault on the estate tonight was never meant to breach the vault, Dominic. It was a distraction. A violent show to force you, your sister, and your brilliant little nurse to lock yourselves inside this room."
Claire realized the horrifying truth. The siege, the gunfire, the mercenaries—it was all an elaborate cattle drive to push them into a sealed chamber where Vance could poison them without firing a shot.
"In ten minutes, the oxygen levels in that room will drop to zero," Vance continued smoothly. "The police will arrive in an hour, find the great Don Moretti and his family dead of toxic gas inhalation caused by a 'faulty emergency generator system,' and Volkov will take Chicago smoothly. Goodbye, Dominic."
The intercom went dead.
The sweet smell in the room grew thicker. Sophia began coughing violently, clutching her baby tight. "Dominic... I can't... I can't breathe..."
"Stay low to the ground!" Claire commanded, kneeling near the floor where the oxygen was densest. She looked at Dominic, whose eyes were burning with helpless fury. "Dominic, we have less than six minutes before the oxygen saturation drops below brain-damage levels!"
"The blast doors are three inches of solid titanium," Dominic growled, pounding his fist against the metal in frustration. "Without the override code from the main console outside, we can't blow it open from the inside without collapsing the ceiling!"
Claire forced her medical mind to stop panicking and analyze the room. She looked at the private medical kit, the oxygen tanks mounted on the wall, and the high-pressure saline lines used for emergency resuscitation.
"We don't need to blow the door," Claire said, her eyes flashing with sudden brilliance. "We need to blow the lock mechanism!"
"With what?" Dominic asked. "We don't have explosives!"
"We have pure medical oxygen, alcohol prep pads, and a high-voltage defibrillator," Claire said, springing into action. She grabbed the emergency crash cart and dragged it to the door. "Pure oxygen under pressure combined with concentrated isopropyl alcohol creates a volatile hypergolic mixture! If we channel the oxygen stream directly into the drill holes you just made with your gun, and ignite it with the defibrillator's 360-joule shock..."
Dominic’s eyes lit up with instant understanding. "It will act as a localized plasma torch. It will melt the internal locking pins!"
"Exactly!" Claire said. "Help me!"
Working together with terrifying speed, Dominic snapped the regulator off a heavy steel oxygen tank, attaching a thin plastic catheter line. He jammed the end of the line deep into the bullet holes in the lock casing, cranking the pressure valve to maximum.
Claire soaked dozens of gauze pads in 99% medical alcohol, stuffing them into the hole around the oxygen line.
"Sophia, get behind the metal medical cabinet with Leonardo and cover your ears!" Claire yelled.
Sophia scrambled behind the reinforced stainless-steel cabinet, shielding her baby with her body.
Dominic grabbed the defibrillator paddles, setting the unit to maximum charge. 360 Joules.
"Stand back, Claire!" Dominic ordered, placing his body between her and the door lock.
"We do this together!" Claire said, holding the oxygen valve steady.
Dominic looked at her, his eyes fierce with pride and intense love. He didn't argue. He placed one paddle against the exposed metal near the alcohol-soaked lock.
"Charging... 360 Joules!" the machine chimed.
"Clear!" Claire yelled.
Dominic pressed the button.
A blinding white explosion ripped through the lock mechanism. A deafening BANG echoed through the vault as a jet of blue plasma fire erupted from the door casing, melting the heavy steel locking pins instantly.
The massive titanium blast door swung open three inches.
Fresh air rushed into the room.
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Without missing a beat, Dominic kicked the weakened door fully open, pulling his second hidden pistol from his ankle holster. He stepped out into the dark hallway like an vengeful god.
"Stay here," Dominic said softly to Claire. "I'm going to finish this."
