Chapter 2 : The Ghost Protocol
Chapter 2 : The Ghost Protocol
The sterile walls of the emergency room seemed to close in around Clara as the digital clock on the wall blinked 3:15 AM. Outside the small window, a heavy, cold fog rolled over the empty parking lot, obscuring the streetlights and wrapping the hospital in an eerie, isolating shroud. Liam stood by the door, his eyes darting toward the corridor every time a nurse's footsteps echoed past.
A sharp, discreet knock rattled the heavy metal service door near the back of the ward. Liam didn't hesitate. He pulled it open to reveal a tall man in a dark trench coat, his face partially obscured by the shadows. It was Miller, an old comrade from Liam’s days in covert reconnaissance.
"Transport is idling in the ambulance bay behind the maintenance shed. No cameras, no trail," Miller whispered, his voice clipped and efficient. "If Vance’s men have local cops on their payroll, every highway toll and traffic cam between here and the state line is already compromised. We move now, or we don't move at all."
Clara swung her legs over the side of the hospital bed, gritting her teeth against the dull, lingering ache in her lower back. The nurses had left her charts on the tray table, but she didn't care about discharge papers. She cared about survival. She grabbed her coat, slipping her arms into the sleeves while keeping her free hand protectively pressed against her stomach.
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"I'm ready," Clara said, her voice carrying a steely resolve that surprised even Liam. The fear that had paralyzed her in the mansion's foyer had completely crystallized into a cold, unbreakable determination.
They slipped out through the service exit, bypassing the main lobby where a local patrol car had casually parked just ten minutes prior. In the shadows of the loading dock sat an unmarked, blacked-out transport van. As the doors slammed shut behind them, the vehicle peeled away into the predawn darkness, leaving the city—and the immediate claws of the Vance family—far behind.
