Chapter 5 - THE NURSE'S TESTIMONY
The interior of the old sanitarium was a war zone of shattered glass, flashing red emergency beacons, and the acrid smell of cordite.
Two hired mercenaries wearing black tactical uniforms were already lying motionless in the main corridor, neutralized by the clinic’s private security guard who had died defending the reception desk.
“Left corridor!” Hannah urged, running behind Dominic as he swept the corners with lethal, fluid precision. “There’s a utility freight elevator behind the linen storage! It goes straight down to the sub-basement dialysis unit!”
Gunfire erupted from the far end of the hallway.
Dominic shoved Hannah behind a reinforced concrete pillar, leaning out and firing three controlled double-taps. Two Sterling gunmen dropped instantly. Adrian pushed forward, covering their flank with suppressive fire.
“Move! Move!” Dominic commanded, hauling Hannah toward the heavy steel fire door marked *MAINTENANCE*.
They tumbled down the narrow spiral staircase into the dim, humid sub-basement. The air smelled of damp earth and medical disinfectant. At the end of a long corridor lit by flickering fluorescent tubes, a door stood ajar.
From inside came the harsh, unmistakable voice of Thomas Cole.
“Where is the digital audio backup, Margaret? Richard told me you kept a recorder on you during Elena’s final night. Tell me where it is, or I’ll pull your dialysis lines out right now.”
Hannah’s heart stopped. She tried to surge forward, but Dominic caught her by the arm, his grip unbreakable. He pressed her flat against the wall, signaling Adrian to flank the left side of the frame while he took the right.
Dominic didn't negotiate. He didn't issue warnings.
He kicked the door off its hinges with a thunderous crash and swept the room.
Thomas Cole, a hulking mercenary with a scarred neck and cold mercenary eyes, spun around, raising his suppressed tactical pistol. But Dominic was faster. A single shot from Dominic’s weapon punched through Cole’s right shoulder, sending the pistol clattering across the linoleum floor.
Before Cole could reach for his backup weapon on his hip, Dominic closed the distance like a panther. He drove his knee into Cole’s sternum, slammed him onto an iron gurney, and pressed the hot barrel of his gun directly under Cole’s chin.
“Move a millimeter,” Dominic growled, “and you join the people you’ve buried.”
Adrian instantly secured the mercenary’s hands with zip-ties, kicking away his weapons.
In the corner of the room, lying in an adjustable hospital bed hooked to an automated filtration unit, was a woman in her late fifties. Margaret Vale was thin, pale, and worn down by years of hiding and chronic illness, but her hazel eyes—identical to Hannah’s—were sharp and defiant.
“Mom!” Hannah cried, breaking past Adrian and falling onto her knees beside the bed.
“Hannah... oh God, Hannah!” Margaret choked, weeping as she wrapped her frail arms around her daughter’s neck. “You shouldn't have come! They were looking for you!”
“It’s over, Mom. Dominic knows everything,” Hannah sobbed against her mother’s hospital gown. “He knows.”
Margaret looked up, her tear-filled eyes locking onto Dominic, who still stood with his foot planted on Thomas Cole’s chest.
“Dominic Moretti,” Margaret whispered, her voice trembling. “You finally found Elena’s light.”
“I found it, Margaret,” Dominic said, his voice lowering with profound remorse. “And I am sorry. I am so deeply sorry that my blindness cost Elena her life and forced you into this hell.”
Margaret shook her head weakly. “Elena knew you were innocent, Dominic. She knew you were surrounded by wolves. She made me promise that if she died, I would keep the evidence safe until you found the mirror. She knew that the moment you saw her writing, you wouldn't rest until you uncovered the truth.”
Margaret reached beneath her pillow, pulling out a small, metallic micro-cassette recorder encased in clear plastic.
“It’s all here,” Margaret said, handing it toward him. “Elena wore this on her collar on the morning of October 18. It has Richard Sterling discussing the embezzlement scheme. It has Vanessa admitting that she was poisoning Elena’s tea. And it has the sound of Thomas Cole pushing her.”
Thomas Cole groaned from the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. “You think that recording will save you, Moretti? Richard already has the state attorney general in his pocket. By sunrise, you’ll be indicted for treason, kidnapping, and domestic terrorism. You’re already a dead man.”
Dominic looked down at the enforcer. His face was entirely devoid of emotion.
“Richard bought the attorney general with money,” Dominic said calmly. “I own the docks where his shipping containers arrive. I own the unions that move his steel. And right now... I have his chief executioner.”
Dominic turned to Adrian. “Call our private medevac team. Move Margaret onto the transport stretcher. We fly back to New York immediately. We take Margaret to our private medical facility at the upstate retreat.”
“What about him?” Adrian asked, gesturing to Thomas Cole.
Dominic looked at Cole with eyes as cold as a frozen grave.
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“He is going to make a phone call to Richard Sterling,” Dominic said. “And he is going to tell Richard that the job is done... and that Hannah Collins is dead.”
***