Chapter 2 - The Resuscitation in the Van
The side door of the abandoned warehouse was smashed open with a heavy thud.
Four men in tactical gear with suppressed submachine guns rushed down the wooden stairs, sweeping the room with weapon-mounted lights before a tall man in a dark trench coat stepped into the gloom. His face was weathered, scarred across the jawline, his grey eyes sweeping over the scene in a fraction of a second.
"Boss!" the scarred man shouted, dropping to his knees beside Nicholas.
"Adrian," Nicholas wheezed, his hand weakly holding the silver medallion against his chest. "She... saved me."
Adrian turned his gaze up toward Hannah. The sheer lethality in his eyes made her take a step back, her back hitting the rusted steel column where Nicholas had been chained.
"She has medical hands, sir," Adrian noted quietly, his eyes falling on the improvised tourniquet Hannah had already constructed using her cleaning rag and a screwdriver. "You cut him down with a broken mirror?"
"His pulse is dropping!" Hannah shouted, ignoring the tactical weapons pointed near her feet. "Stop standing around looking like a movie set and help me lift him! He needs an IV line now!"
Adrian stared at her for a second, startled by the sheer audacity of a woman in a faded cleaning uniform yelling at the most dangerous syndicate lieutenants in the state.
"Move!" Adrian barked at his men. "Get him into the mobile surgical unit!"
They lifted Nicholas onto a portable canvas stretcher. As they carried him toward the stairs, Adrian grabbed Hannah by her forearm—not with violence, but with a firm, inescapable grip.
"You're coming with us," Adrian said flatly.
"What?! No!" Hannah protested, pulling back. "I have three more offices to clean by 5:00 AM! If I lose this job, I can't pay my rent!"
Adrian didn't argue. He simply pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his coat, shoved it into her cleaning apron pocket, and ushered her up the stairs into the blinding rain outside.
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Parked in the alley was a blacked-out commercial delivery van. But when the rear doors swung open, Hannah gasped. Inside was a high-tech, military-grade mobile ICU, complete with monitors, surgical lamps, and medical supplies.
"You said you know how to run an IV," Adrian said, tossing her a box of sterile latex gloves. "Prove it."
