Chapter 5 - The Red Override
In the pitch-black ICU, the only light came from the red emergency battery indicators glowing on the ventilator and the heart monitor.
Titan was on his feet in a fraction of a second, his body rigid, a deep, guttural roar bursting from his chest.
"Marcus!" Elena shouted, instantly dropping to her knees beside Adrian’s bed to secure his IV lines so they wouldn't tear out in the dark. "What’s happening?!"
"Primary power failure!" Marcus barked, drawing his heavy semi-automatic pistol from his belt, the metallic slide clicking loudly in the dark. "Someone jammed the floor’s circuit breaker from the basement! The emergency generator should have kicked in!"
"It didn't!" Elena yelled, checking the battery indicator on Adrian's ventilator. "The backup battery only gives us twelve minutes on this respirator! If the power stays off, he suffocates!"
A heavy, muffled explosion detonated somewhere near the elevator bank down the hall. The steel doors of the ICU shuddered against their frames.
"They're clearing the floor," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a cold, tactical tone. "Julian isn't waiting for Adrian to recover. He knows Adrian woke up. He's finishing the job tonight."
Marcus moved to the heavy steel door, pressing his ear against the cold metal. He heard the distinct, rhythmic pops of suppressed sub-machine guns—the sound of Julian’s private mercenaries wiping out Marcus's guards in the hallway.
"There are at least six of them out there," Marcus whispered, coming back to the bed. "My men outside are down. The elevator is locked."
"Can we use the fire stairs?" Elena asked, her heart hammering against her ribs, but her hands remaining completely steady as she disconnected Adrian’s IV bags from the pole and taped them directly to his chest.
"The fire stairs lead to the main lobby—it'll be crawling with Julian's men," Marcus said. "Our only chance is the service freight elevator at the end of the east corridor. It runs on a separate hydraulic line. But we have to cross forty feet of open hallway to get there."
"He can't walk, Marcus!" Elena said, gesturing to Adrian, who was fighting to breathe as the ventilator’s battery wavered. "He can't even stand!"
"I'll carry him," Marcus said.
"No," a rasped voice came from the bed.
Adrian reached up, gripping Marcus’s sleeve. "You... carry the nurse... and the dog. I... stay."
"Shut up, boss," Marcus growled affectionately. "I didn't guard you for twenty years just to let your snake of a brother shoot you in a hospital bed."
"Marcus," Elena cut in, her eyes sharp in the red glow of the battery light. "If you carry him, you can't hold a gun. You need someone to clear the hallway."
Marcus looked at her, then down at Titan.
The 150-pound mastiff was standing by the sealed steel door, his nose pressed against the narrow rubber seam, his body vibrating with violent, suppressed fury. He smelled the men outside. He smelled the same gunpowder that had filled the mansion four nights ago.
"Titan doesn't need a gun," Elena whispered, stepping up beside the massive dog, laying her bare hand on his broad head. "He just needs me to open the door."
Marcus looked at the nurse. Three days ago, she was a quiet girl carrying a vinyl bag. Tonight, standing in the red darkness of a hit-zone, her eyes were as hard as any soldier he had ever commanded in the field.
"When I throw this door release," Marcus said, unhooking the manual emergency lever near the frame, "Titan goes first. I follow with Adrian over my shoulder. You stay behind me with my secondary weapon."
Marcus pulled a compact snub-nosed .38 revolver from his ankle holster and slapped it into Elena’s palm.
She had never held a gun in her life. The iron was cold, heavy, and smelled of gun oil.
"Point and pull," Marcus said flatly. "Don't think. Just pull."
Elena nodded, her grip tightening around the wooden handle. "Do it."
Marcus grabbed the manual emergency lever and slammed it down with all his weight.
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The steel door unlocked with a heavy CLANG and slid open six inches.
Titan didn't wait. With a terrifying, demonic roar that echoed through the dark floor, the 150-pound beast smashed his body against the door, throwing it wide open, and surged into the pitch-black corridor like a cannonball made of muscle and teeth.
