Chapter 70 *
Scarlett's POV
The sirens started about five minutes after the first gunshot.
I was still on my knees in the middle of the lobby. Hands on my head. Playing the terrified civilian.
Which honestly wasn't that hard to fake when you're pregnant and surrounded by men with assault rifles.
Through the glass doors, I could see red and blue lights flooding the parking lot. Lots of them.
NYPD. FBI. Probably SWAT setting up somewhere with a nice view of the building.
The lead guy—mid-forties, military haircut, dead eyes—grabbed his radio.
"Fall back or we start dropping bodies."
His voice was flat. No emotion. Just stating facts.
A crackling response came through. Too quiet for me to hear.
He smiled. Not a happy smile.
"You think I'm bluffing?"
He turned. Pointed at one of his guys.
The guy raised his rifle. Aimed at the glass doors.
Fired.
The sound was deafening in the enclosed space. People screamed.
Outside, I saw a SWAT officer drop. His helmet saved him, but he went down hard.
"Next one goes through the skull," the leader said into the radio. "Your move."
More crackling.
Then the sirens started pulling back. Vehicles reversing. Creating distance.
Smart. They knew what they were dealing with now.
The leader lowered his radio. Looked satisfied.
"Jackson!"
One of his guys jogged over. Young. Maybe twenty-five. Nervous energy.
"Show them."
Jackson unzipped his tactical vest.
Underneath was a suicide vest. C-4 plastic explosive. Detonator. The works.
Professional grade. Military issue.
I recognized the setup immediately. Enough explosive to bring down a three-story building.
And we were in a hospital with over two hundred people.
Jackson walked to the windows. Made sure everyone outside could see.
More movement outside. The vehicles pulled back even further.
"Smart," the leader muttered.
He turned to face the lobby. Raised his voice.
"Everyone listen up! This building is rigged with explosives. We've got charges on every floor. Every stairwell. Every exit."
He paused. Let that sink in.
"Anyone tries to be a hero, we all die together. We clear?"
Sobbing. Whispered prayers. A kid crying for his mom.
The leader walked over to where Dr. Patterson was still on the ground. Blood from his head wound had stopped flowing, but his face was pale.
"Get up."
Dr. Patterson didn't move.
"I said get up."
The leader grabbed him by the collar. Hauled him to his feet.
Dr. Patterson swayed. Nearly fell.
"You know what I want."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Dr. Patterson's voice shook.
The leader pulled out a pistol. SIG Sauer P226. Pressed it against Dr. Patterson's temple.
"Don't waste my time, Doc. Where is it?"
Dr. Patterson's eyes went wide.
"That research is classified. I can't—"
"You can. And you will."
"It's not ready. It hasn't been tested—"
"I don't care if it's ready." The leader's voice dropped. Cold. "I care that it's worth two hundred million dollars to the right buyer."
Two hundred million.
Jesus.
No wonder they were willing to blow up a hospital.
Dr. Patterson shook his head. "You're nothing but a goddamn thief."
Wrong thing to say.
The leader's expression didn't change. He just turned. Pointed at a woman huddled near the reception desk.
Fired.
The gunshot echoed. The woman jerked backward. Hit the floor.
Screaming. Chaos. People trying to scramble away.
"Quiet!" The leader's voice cut through everything. "Next person who makes a sound dies."
Silence. Except for muffled crying.
He turned back to Dr. Patterson.
"Every minute you waste, people die. Your choice, Doc."
Dr. Patterson was staring at the dead woman. His whole body shaking.
"I... I can't..."
The leader pointed at an elderly man in a wheelchair.
"No!" Dr. Patterson lunged forward.
Too late.
Another gunshot. The elderly man slumped over.
"Stop!" Dr. Patterson was crying now. "Please, just stop!"
"Then give me what I want."
"I need time—"
"You don't have time." He scanned the crowd. His eyes landed on me.
Shit.
"You." He walked over. "Stand up."
I did. Slowly. Kept my movements shaky.
He grabbed my arm. Yanked me forward.
"What's your name?"
"S-Scarlett." I let my voice crack.
"Well, Scarlett, you just became very important."
He pressed the gun against my temple.
Cold metal. I'd had guns pointed at me dozens of times. By better men than this asshole.
But I let my breathing get faster. Let my eyes go wide.
"Please..." I whispered. "I'm pregnant."
His expression didn't change. "Then the doc better cooperate."
He turned to Dr. Patterson.
"You have thirty seconds to decide. Give me the research, or I paint the walls with her brain."
Dr. Patterson looked at me. At the dead bodies on the floor.
My mind was racing.
Eight hostiles. H&K MP5 submachine guns. Thirty-round magazines. Each guy carrying at least three mags.
They had the lobby covered from every angle. No blind spots.
Exits were blocked. Windows reinforced. C-4 rigged throughout the building.
Fighting my way out? Maybe.
Surviving the explosion if they trigger it? Not likely.
My best option was eliminating the leader. Cut off the head, body dies.
"Fifteen seconds."
I could take him. Disarm him in under two seconds. Snap his neck in three.
But then what? His guys would open fire. Kill everyone in the lobby.
"Ten seconds."
Dr. Patterson's face was pale. But he stayed silent. Jaw clenched.
"Five seconds."
I felt the pressure of the gun increase. His finger moving to the trigger.
This is it.
I shifted my weight slightly. Prepared to move.
If he pulls that trigger, I'm taking him with me.
"Four."
Dr. Patterson's eyes were locked on mine. Apologetic. Guilty.
"Three."
My muscles coiled. Ready.
"Two."
"STOP!" Dr. Patterson collapsed forward. Hands on the ground. "I'll do it! I'll give you the research! Just please... please don't kill anyone else."
The leader smiled.
I let my knees buckle. Dropped to the floor. Shaking.
Well, this just got complicated.
The leader hauled me back to my feet. Gun still against my head.
"Lead the way, Doc."