Chapter 27 - The Phantom Protocol
Across the Atlantic, a deafening mechanical thud reverberated through the PICU of Chicago Memorial.
The lights across the entire sixth floor flickered violently, then exploded in showers of sparks. Every LED monitor in Room 12 went pitch-black. The mechanical ventilators sputtered, backup emergency generators kicking in with a deep, grinding roar that vibrated through the floorboards.
In Geneva, the tactical feed went completely dead.
Silence fell over the Swiss server vault. The only sound was the heavy, panting breaths of Dr. Mercer and Agent Reynolds, and the slow, dripping of condensation from the ruptured cooling pipes above.
Olivia stood frozen before the darkened console, her hand hovering above the keyboard.
"Clara?" she whispered into her earpiece. "Clara, can you hear me?"
Nothing. Only the dead hissing of static.
"Clara! Answer me!" Olivia screamed into the mic. "Ethan! Did he make it?!"
Seconds stretched into agonizing eternities. Victor Sterling slowly sat up against the wall, a wicked sneer returning to his bruised lips. "You killed him yourself, Nurse Bennett. You cooked him with an industrial magnet. You were out of your depth from the day you looked at that first CT scan."
Olivia’s chest heaved. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, pooling at the edge of her chin. Mercer bowed his head, his hands sliding down the server rack, blood smeared across the silver metal.
Then, through the static, a faint sound emerged.
It was tiny. Thin, raspy, and furious.
It was the cry of a newborn baby.
"Olivia?!" Clara’s voice burst through the channel, choking back massive, ragged sobs. "Olivia! He’s breathing! He’s breathing on his own! Intracranial pressure just plummeted to nine! Pupils are reactive! He just squeezed my finger!"
Olivia’s legs gave out. She collapsed to the floor of the bunker, burying her face in her hands as a guttural sob tore through her throat. Mercer let out a wild, breathless laugh, grabbing Olivia by the shoulders and pulling her into a fierce embrace.
Across the room, the smile completely vanished from Victor Sterling’s face. His jaw hung slack, his eyes staring blankly at the floor as federal agents stepped forward to drag him to his feet.
"It’s over, Sterling," Agent Reynolds growled, snapping heavy steel cuffs over his wrists. "Ethan Cole lived. And your entire network is dead."
"No," Sterling muttered, his gaze snapping back to the master terminal as an unprompted red script suddenly began scrolling across the auxiliary screen. "No... that wasn't the fail-safe."
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Olivia looked up through her tears, her eyes narrowing as the red text accelerated.
`PHANTOM PROTOCOL INITIATED. REVERSE PROXY ENGAGED. RECIPIENT LIST: UNREDACTED.`