Chapter 3 - The Broken Thread
Miles ran down the back stairs three at a time, his leather shoes slamming against the concrete steps, Sterling trailing ten feet behind him.
They burst into the ground-floor hallway leading to the lab facilities. The corridor was empty, bathed in the yellow glow of emergency night lights. The door to the donor draw room was wide open.
Miles kicked the door back against the wall.
Inside, the room was in total disarray. Plastic specimen trays lay shattered on the floor, red blood tubes broken, spreading sticky crimson pools across the white linoleum.
The phlebotomist, Sarah, was sitting on the floor in the corner, her uniform torn at the shoulder, clutching a bloody paper towel to her forehead, weeping quietly.
"Where is he?!" Miles yelled, dropping to his knees beside her.
"He... he took it," Sarah sobbed, pointing toward the rear exit that led to the hospital's underground parking garage. "Dr. Vance... he came in right after you left. He pulled the blood bags out of the centrifuge. When I told him he couldn't take unprocessed blood out of the lab, he... he hit me with an iron tray..."
"Did he take all of it?" Miles demanded, grabbing her arms gently. "The blood I donated—did he take it?"
"All of it," she wept. "He destroyed the rest of the supply in the cooler... he smashed everything..."
Miles stood up, his vision swimming with a dark, suffocating rage.
Dr. Vance hadn't been trying to save Emily. He had been testing her—or rather, testing him.
Sterling ran into the lab, holding his phone to his ear. "Miles! I just spoke to the chief of medicine. Aris Vance isn't on staff here! He’s a visiting research consultant from Vance Pharmaceuticals—a subsidiary of the Aegis Group!"
Miles turned slowly.
Aegis Group.
The primary rival competitor to Wilson Biotech. The company that had been trying to buy out Miles’ medical database platform for six months—the platform that contained the genetic mapping records of millions of patients across North America.
"It wasn't a hit-and-run," Miles said, the horror dawning on him with absolute, crystal clarity. "They were tracking Emily because she had something on Vance. And when she got hit, Vance intercepted the ambulance call through the hospital’s private network so he could control her care."
"They wanted her dead on the operating table," Sterling whispered, horrified. "Or kept in a coma until they found whatever she hid."
"And they used my blood to verify her identity," Miles rasped, realization striking him like a physical blow. "They needed genetic proof that she was my sister—that her claims against Aegis were legitimate!"
Miles didn't wait. He turned and ran back toward the main elevators, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Sophie.
He had left Sophie in the main waiting room with Jennifer.
He sprinted through the double doors of the pediatric wing, sliding across the slick floor as he rounded the corner into the lobby.
The lobby was almost empty now. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead.
Jennifer was standing near the reception desk, looking frantic, her hands flying over her phone keyboard.
"Where is she?!" Miles roared, running up to her and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Jennifer! Where is Sophie?!"
Jennifer flinched, looking terrified. "Miles! I... I turned around for ten seconds to answer a call from your security team! A nurse in pink scrubs came by—she said she was taking Sophie to the pediatric playroom down the hall to get some ice cream!"
Miles let go of her, his eyes darting down the dark, carpeted corridor leading to the children's wing.
At the far end of the hallway, forty yards away, a tall figure in a blue doctor’s coat was walking quickly toward the emergency exit doors, holding a little girl by the hand.
The little girl was wearing a oversized lavender shirt, holding a brown teddy bear under her arm.
"SOPHIE!" Miles screamed, his voice echoing off the high plaster ceilings like a thunderclap.
The figure in the blue coat stopped. He didn't turn around. He reached for the metal bar of the emergency exit door.
Miles sprinted.
In his thirty years of life, Miles Wilson had run marathons, built empires, and broken men with words. But he had never run like this. His lungs burned, his shoes skidded on the carpet, his chest heaving with a desperate, terrifying panic.
The doctor shoved the emergency door open, the alarm blaring out a high-pitched, deafening screech: BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Vance pulled Sophie through the door into the rain-slicked alleyway outside.
Miles threw his body against the door, bursting through into the freezing night air.
Rain was pouring down in thick, gray sheets, bouncing off the asphalt.
A black Mercedes van was idling in the alley twenty feet away, its rear sliding door wide open. A man in a dark rain jacket was waiting inside the door, reaching out his hands.
Dr. Vance was pulling Sophie toward the van. She was screaming now, kicking her feet, her little shoes splashing through the muddy puddles, clinging frantically to Mr. Buttons.
"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Miles roared.
He tackled Dr. Vance from behind.
The two men hit the wet concrete with a brutal, sickening crash. The doctor’s glasses flew off, shattering against the brick wall of the alley. Miles didn't hesitate; he drove his elbow directly into Vance’s jaw, feeling the bone give way with a dull crunch.
Vance gasped, blood spraying from his mouth, but he kicked Miles hard in the ribs, sending the billionaire rolling into the wet gutter.
The man in the van lunged out, grabbing Sophie by her backpack, lifting her off her feet.
"UNCLE MILES!" she shrieked, her voice cutting through the roar of the rain and the blaring alarm.
She swung her free arm with all her tiny strength, slamming the heavy, button-eyed head of Mr. Buttons directly into the man’s face.
The button eye caught the man right across the bridge of his nose.
The man cursed, flinched, and dropped her.
Sophie fell into the mud, scrambled to her feet, and ran toward Miles, who was already pushing himself up from the wet asphalt, ignoring the blinding pain in his side.
Miles scooped her into his arms, pulling her tight against his chest, backing away as the man from the van picked up Dr. Vance by his coat collar and dragged him back into the vehicle.
The sliding door slammed shut. The Mercedes van accelerated violently, its tires spinning, splashing a wave of freezing water over the brick walls as it disappeared into the dark, rain-soaked city.
Miles fell to his knees in the alleyway, holding Sophie tight against his heart.
She was shaking violently, soaking wet, her little face pressed into his neck, her fingers clutched around his tie.
"I have you," Miles whispered into her wet, curly hair, tears finally spilling from his eyes, mixing with the cold rain on his cheeks. "I have you, Sophie. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."
"Mr. Buttons saved me," she sobbed into his collar. "He hit the bad man."
Miles pulled back, looking down at the little girl, then at the wet, muddy teddy bear clutched in her hand.
The red ribbon around the bear's neck had come completely undone during the struggle.
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And from the ripped seam along the bear's back, a small piece of dark, water-resistant plastic was sticking out.
A flash drive.
