CHAPTER 3 THE MAN WITH TWO ACCESS CARDS
Marcus burst out of the elevator before the doors had fully opened.
"Seal the maternity wing!" he shouted.
Within seconds, armed private security spread through the corridor.
Doctors stopped in surprise.
Nurses exchanged confused glances.
Patients' families were ushered away.
The normally peaceful seventh floor transformed into a lockdown zone.
Richard Lawson hurried after Marcus, laptop tucked beneath one arm.
"The signal is still active!"
"Where?"
Richard glanced at the live tracking map.
"It keeps moving."
Marcus frowned.
"What do you mean moving?"
"The person accessing the surveillance server isn't stationary."
The blinking red dot drifted slowly across the digital floor plan.
Room 712.
Hallway.
Nurses' station.
Then...
It disappeared.
Richard cursed under his breath.
"They've disconnected."
Inside Operating Room Three...
Khloe lay beneath brilliant surgical lights.
Monitors surrounded her.
A steady heartbeat echoed through the room.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Dr. Emily Carter examined another ultrasound.
"The baby's heartbeat is stable."
A nurse exhaled with relief.
"But..."
Dr. Carter didn't finish.
The bruising along Khloe's abdomen had spread dramatically.
Someone had used tremendous force.
Far more than one kick should have caused.
Khloe slowly opened her eyes.
"Doctor..."
"You shouldn't speak."
"My baby..."
Dr. Carter forced a reassuring smile.
"She's fighting."
Khloe closed her eyes again.
Then whispered something so quietly only the anesthesiologist heard.
"If Marcus asks..."
"...don't let him blame himself."
Back in the hallway...
Richard replayed the network logs.
Something bothered him.
He enlarged the authentication records.
Administrator Login.
Successful.
Device ID: MT-001.
His eyebrows drew together.
Marcus noticed.
"What?"
Richard rotated the laptop.
"This device identifier."
Marcus stared at it.
His face drained of color.
"I know that number."
Richard looked up.
Marcus answered almost automatically.
"It's mine."
Silence.
Elaine frowned.
"Your laptop?"
Marcus slowly shook his head.
"No."
"My executive security card."
Richard typed rapidly.
The system confirmed it.
Every administrator card inside the hospital had its own encrypted device signature.
MT-001.
Registered to Marcus Thorne.
The room grew cold.
Elaine stared at him.
"You logged into the server?"
"No."
Richard didn't interrupt.
He simply watched Marcus carefully.
Marcus spoke with complete certainty.
"My card never left my wallet."
He reached into his tuxedo jacket.
Removed his black leather wallet.
Opened it.
His expression froze.
The slot where the executive access card should have been...
Was empty.
Across town...
A black luxury sedan rolled silently through the rain.
The janitor from earlier no longer wore his uniform.
Now dressed in a dark suit, he sat alone in the back seat.
The flash drive rested in his hand.
He turned it over slowly.
His phone rang again.
Unknown Number.
"You haven't destroyed it."
"No."
"You were instructed to."
"I watched it."
Silence.
Then the distorted voice returned.
"What did you see?"
The man hesitated.
"Not Isabella."
Another pause.
"I saw someone else enter the room."
The line remained silent.
"Someone the camera wasn't supposed to capture."
The electronic voice became colder.
"That's impossible."
"It happened."
The man looked out the rain-covered window.
"There was another person."
"They appeared..."
"...before Isabella attacked."
"...and disappeared before Marcus arrived."
The call ended instantly.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
The man slowly looked down at the flash drive.
Whatever secret those missing thirty-seven seconds contained...
Someone powerful enough to rewrite hospital servers wanted it buried forever.
Meanwhile...
Richard requested every camera angle surrounding the hospital.
Parking garages.
Hallways.
Elevators.
Loading docks.
One by one, dozens of recordings filled the screen.
"Freeze."
Marcus pointed.
Camera Twelve.
Service Corridor.
A janitor pushing a cleaning cart.
Richard zoomed in.
Time stamp.
22:19.
Exactly one minute after the attack.
"Track him."
Security immediately searched other cameras.
Camera Fifteen.
He entered the service elevator.
Camera Twenty-One.
Exited underground parking.
Camera Thirty.
Walked calmly toward a black sedan.
Then...
Nothing.
The vehicle left hospital property.
License plate unreadable.
Professional.
Richard leaned back.
"Not a hospital employee."
Dr. Bennett nodded.
"I've never seen him."
Marcus folded his arms.
"He wasn't cleaning."
"No."
Richard agreed.
"He was collecting evidence."
Just then...
One of the security officers hurried down the hallway.
"Sir!"
Marcus turned.
"What is it?"
"We found this."
The officer handed Richard a small transparent evidence bag.
Inside...
A single black button.
Marcus immediately recognized it.
It matched perfectly with the tuxedo he was wearing.
Richard looked up.
"Where?"
"Near the hidden computer cabinet."
Marcus instinctively checked his jacket.
Every button remained attached.
Richard's expression changed.
"This isn't from tonight."
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
Richard examined the stitching.
"The design changed six months ago."
He held the button beside Marcus's sleeve.
Different.
Almost identical.
But older.
Marcus whispered,
"I haven't owned that tuxedo in over half a year."
Elaine looked confused.
"Then why is its button inside this suite?"
No one answered.
Because everyone was thinking the same thing.
Someone wearing Marcus's old tuxedo...
Had been inside this hospital.
Long before tonight.
Several floors below...
Khloe's surgery finally ended.
Dr. Carter removed her gloves with exhausted hands.
The baby's heartbeat stabilized.
Mother alive.
Child alive.
Barely.
A nurse smiled weakly.
"They're going to be okay."
Dr. Carter didn't smile back.
Instead...
She looked at the scan one last time.
Something tiny caught her attention.
She leaned closer.
"No..."
Another doctor joined her.
"What?"
Dr. Carter pointed.
Embedded beneath the bruised skin near Khloe's ribs...
A tiny metallic object reflected the operating light.
Not a surgical clip.
Not jewelry.
Something else.
She carefully extracted it with sterile forceps.
Everyone in the operating room stared.
It was smaller than a grain of rice.
Wrapped in transparent medical polymer.
A microchip.
The room fell silent.
The anesthesiologist whispered,
"Why would a pregnant woman have a microchip implanted beneath her skin?"
No one knew.
But one thing became immediately obvious.
The assault inside the hospital suite...
Had never been only about jealousy.
And somewhere else in the city...
A man in a black suit received a text message consisting of only four words.
THE CHIP WAS FOUND.
He slowly smiled.
Then looked toward the towering skyline.
"Now," he murmured.
May you like
"The real hunt begins."
END OF CHAPTER 3
