Chapter 6 - Blood in the Conservatory
The basement parking structure of Blake Biomedical Research was dimly lit and smelled of wet concrete and exhaust fumes.
Vincent's men executed the entrance with terrifying efficiency. Two silent shots from a suppressed weapon disabled the security cameras before the heavy iron doors were forced open with a hydraulic jack.
We swept through the rear service corridors like shadows.
I walked close behind Frank, carrying a heavy aluminum medical transport cooler, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
We reached the third-floor executive laboratory suite. Through the frosted glass windows of the central office, two low male voices were arguing heatedly over the sound of rain drumming against the skylights.
"...I told you, Julian! The nurse he hired is not a standard caregiver!" Dr. Blake's voice echoed through the door. "She was asking about the ventilation system within ten minutes of arriving!"
"Calm down, Harrison!" Julian Moretti's sharp, arrogant voice barked back. "Vincent is an uneducated thug who knows nothing about biochemistry! He thinks his kids have a genetic disease! The nurse is a nobody!"
"She took a specimen sample, you fool!" Blake shrieked. "If she runs that through a basic gas chromatograph—"
BOOM!
The heavy oak door exploded inward as Frank blew the hinges with a breaching charge.
Glass rained down across the polished white tile floor.
Dr. Blake let out a high-pitched scream, stumbling backward into a glass cabinet filled with chemical beakers, sending them crashing to the floor.
Julian Moretti reached frantically for a gun on the desk, but before his fingers could touch the grip, Vincent was across the room.
Vincent grabbed Julian by his expensive silk tie, hauling him over the heavy mahogany desk, and slammed him face-first onto the marble floor with a sickening crack.
"Vincent!" Julian screamed, coughing up blood as Vincent pinned him down with a heavy boot pressed directly against his throat. "Vincent, wait! It wasn't me! Blake forced me into it! He had debt on my shipping lines!"
Vincent didn't utter a single word. He looked down at his cousin with a cold, terrifying detachment that was far more chilling than rage.
"Claire," Vincent called out without moving his foot an inch. "Find the vault."
I stepped past the shattered glass, rushing toward the climate-controlled chemical storage vault in the rear of the lab. The vault door had a digital keypad and a biometric finger scanner.
I looked at Dr. Blake, who was cowering on the floor in a puddle of spilled saline solution, clutching his arm.
"The override code," I demanded, pulling the aluminum cooler up. "Give me the override code for the Pralidoxime storage!"
"I... I don't have it!" Blake stammered, his eyes darting frantically toward the door. "It's managed by the central server in Hartford—"
Vincent pulled his sidearm from his coat, racking the slide with a heavy metallic clack, and pointed it directly at Blake's knee.
"Three," Vincent counted flatly.
"4-8-1-9-0!" Blake shrieked hysterically, clutching his head. "4-8-1-9-0! The red tray on the top shelf!"
I punched the five digits into the keypad instantly.
The heavy steel door clicked green and hissed open, releasing a cloud of cold nitrogen vapor.
I stepped inside the freezing vault, scanning the rows of labeled glass vials. On the top shelf, sitting inside a red insulated container, were twenty sealed ampoules of pure, high-concentration Pralidoxime Chloride.
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"I got it!" I yelled, carefully transferring sixteen ampoules into the foam slots of my medical cooler and snapping the lid shut. "Vincent, we have the antidote!"
Suddenly, a loud gunshot echoed through the hallway outside.
