Chapter 5 - Shadows of the Past
Two days later, the rain hit the city with the force of a gale.
Marin returned to the Ferrante estate at 10:50 PM for her regular shift. The security around the perimeter had quadrupled. Heavily armed men in dark suits stood every twenty yards along the driveway, their hands resting near hidden holsters.
When Marin stepped through the side entrance, Marko was waiting for her.
"Hand over your bag," he barked.
Marin stopped, looking at the large security chief. "You know what’s in the bag, Marko. Stethoscope, suction catheters, saline wipes, and a change of scrubs."
"Search the bag," Marko ordered a subordinate.
Marin waited calmly while the guard emptied her bag onto the counter. When he reached for her personal jacket, Marin’s hand shot out, catching his wrist with an iron grip that brought the man to his knees.
"Don't touch my coat," she said quietly.
"Enough," a voice rang out from the top of the stairs.
Elias stood on the landing, wearing a dark sweater and black trousers. He motioned for Marko to step back.
"She goes upstairs," Elias said. "Unsearched."
Marko looked furious, but he nodded and signaled his man to back off. Marin gathered her things, slid her jacket back over her shoulder, and walked past them without another word.
Inside the bedroom, Adelaide was sitting up in bed, looking remarkably well for a woman who had nearly suffocated forty-eight hours earlier. The room had been cleaned, the smashed lamp replaced, and a secondary, heavy-duty battery generator had been installed beneath the medical console.
"You're late," Adelaide said, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
"By two minutes," Marin replied, setting her bag on the chair. "Marko has an aggressive personality."
"Marko is an idiot," Adelaide snorted. "He lets three men into my house, and then acts like a watchdog after the gate has been burned down."
Marin began her routines. Pulse: 76. Oxygen: 96. Suction: Clear.
"My son spent two days looking for your military records," Adelaide said quietly as Marin wiped down the bed rail.
Marin didn't stop her work. "He won't find them."
"He found a name," Adelaide continued, watching Marin’s face closely. "Captain Marin Vance. Combat Medic, 75th Ranger Regiment. Decorated twice in the Korengal Valley. Court-martialed in 2022 for disobeying a direct order to abandon an Afghan civilian compound."
Marin paused, her hand holding the saline wipe mid-air.
"He has good intelligence," Marin said softly.
"He has money," Adelaide corrected. "Money opens government vaults that should stay locked. He knows you took a bullet in the shoulder to carry a nine-year-old girl out of a burning village."
Marin closed her notebook with a soft snap. "Your son shouldn't pry into things that don't concern him."
"It does concern him," Adelaide said, her voice softening into something almost gentle. "Elias thinks every person in the world has an owner. He thinks loyalty is something you buy on a monthly installment plan. When he saw you stand in front of those men for twenty-eight dollars an hour, it broke his world."
"It wasn't about loyalty," Marin said, turning to look at the old woman. "It was about my job. I don't let people die on my shift."
Before Adelaide could respond, the heavy mahogany door swung open.
May you like
Elias walked into the room. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket, and his tie was loosened at the collar. He looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes hinting at days without sleep.
"Marin," he said, using her first name for the first time. "We have a problem."
