Nothing in my life had ever terrified me like hearing my five-year-old daughters screaming at the gates of my own estate. I had survived bullets, betrayals, and wars powerful men refused to discuss, but when Lily grabbed my coat and cried, “Daddy, Claire won't wake up!” every ounce of power I possessed suddenly meant nothing.

I drove back to St. Mary's Medical Center like a man possessed, the heavy twin-turbo engine of my vehicle roaring through the empty, rain-drenched streets.

By the time I slid the vehicle to a halt outside the emergency entrance, the hospital was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the red flashing emergency lights along the facade.

I pulled two customized automatic handguns from the hidden compartment beneath the driver's seat, racked the slides, and stepped out into the pouring rain.

Inside the main lobby, the air was thick with the smell of cordite and ozone. Emergency strobes flashed silently overhead, casting erratic shadows across the blood-splattered marble floors.

I pushed past the double doors into the third-floor corridor. Two of Thorne’s mercenaries lay unconscious or dead near the nurses' station, disarmed by Marcus’s men. But as I reached Room 412, I saw Marcus leaning against the doorframe, clutching a bleeding shoulder.

“They used tear gas and flashbangs, boss,” Marcus grunted, his teeth gritted in pain. “Professional extraction team. We took out four of them, but they got into the room.”

I kicked the door of Room 412 wide open.

Inside, two tactical operators in black uniforms were disconnecting Claire’s life-support monitors, preparing to load her onto a portable transport stretcher. Dr. Julian Thorne stood near the foot of the bed, holding a stainless steel syringe filled with a clear liquid.

“Stop right there, Whitmore!” Thorne shouted, raising the syringe toward Claire’s IV line. “One press of this plunger and her brain tissue dissolves instantly! Drop your weapons!”

I didn't lower the guns. I stared Thorne dead in the eye, stepping into the room with absolute, predatory stillness.

“You don't get it, Thorne,” I said softly, my voice dripping with ice. “You think you’re dealing with a businessman who plays by your civilized rules.”

“I will kill her!” Thorne screamed, his finger pressing lightly against the plunger.

“If you move that needle one millimeter,” I said, “I won't shoot your heart. I will shoot your knee, then your shoulder, then I will let my men take their time with you in the basement of my estate.”

Thorne hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough.

Claire’s eyes suddenly flew open.

Her hand shot out from beneath the sheet, grabbing Thorne’s wrist with surprising strength. With a sharp twist, she forced his hand downward.

Crack!

I fired two round bursts instantly. Both tactical operators collapsed to the floor before they could raise their weapons.

Thorne dropped the syringe, screaming in terror as he scrambled backward into the corner of the room, raising his hands in surrender.

Claire collapsed back against her pillows, gasping for air, her body convulsing slightly as the heart monitor screamed with erratic readings.

I rushed to her side, sliding one gun into my holster while using my free hand to support her head.

“Claire! Look at me!” I commanded, keeping my voice firm.

Her eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated to different sizes. She looked up at me, her chest heaving violently under the oxygen mask.

“Nathan...” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “The... the song... verse four...”

“Don't try to speak,” I urged. “Save your strength.”

“No!” she gripped my lapel, her knuckles turning white. “The... the fourth verse... unlocks... the drive... Evelyn... she made me promise...”

Dr. Thorne cowered in the corner, holding his bruised wrist, a sneering smile breaking across his bloodied lips. “It’s too late, Whitmore! Her brain is hemorrhaging! Without the neural stabilizer in my lab, she will be dead in less than three hours! And you’ll never get into that drive!”

I stood up, walked over to Thorne, and brought the heavy steel butt of my pistol down across his temple, knocking him instantly into unconsciousness.

I turned back to Marcus, who was leaning against the doorframe. “Get our private medical transport team here now. We are moving Claire to the hidden clinic under the estate.”