Chapter 4: Four Minutes of Darkness
By the time Colonel James Bennett's SUV screeched into the hospital parking lot, the missing four minutes had become the longest four minutes of his life.
Daniel Brooks was already out of his vehicle before it came to a complete stop.
"Security locked down the maternity floor," he said as they sprinted toward the entrance. "No one has entered or left since the cameras came back online."
James didn't answer.
His focus was fixed on one thing.
Emily.
The elevator felt impossibly slow.
The digital display crawled upward.
3...
5...
7...
Each second stretched tighter than the last.
When the doors finally opened, the hallway was swarming with nurses, hospital security officers, and uniformed police.
Emily's room stood open.
James pushed through the crowd.
The bed was empty.
His heart stopped.
Then he heard a weak voice from behind the curtain near the examination area.
"Dad..."
Emily was alive.
She was sitting in a wheelchair, wrapped in a blanket, surrounded by two nurses.
James dropped to one knee beside her.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, still trembling.
"There was a man..."
Daniel stepped closer.
"What did he look like?"
"I... I never saw his face."
"He wore a maintenance uniform."
"He kept his cap pulled down."
One of the nurses interrupted.
"We found him standing beside her IV line. He claimed he was checking the oxygen outlet."
"And?"
"He disappeared the moment another nurse walked in."
Daniel examined the IV bag hanging from the pole.
"It wasn't the oxygen he came for."
He motioned to a forensic technician.
"Take the IV. The tubing too."
The technician nodded.
Ten minutes later, the preliminary report came back.
The room fell silent.
"There was an unknown substance injected into the IV port."
James looked at the technician.
"What kind of substance?"
"We don't know yet."
"But it wasn't prescribed."
Emily stared at the clear liquid still dripping from the bag.
"If the nurse hadn't walked in..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Across town...
Ryan sat alone inside an abandoned repair garage.
His left arm was now secured in a crude homemade sling.
The flash drive rested on a dusty workbench.
He had tried to destroy it twice.
First with a hammer.
Then with a lighter.
Neither worked.
Encrypted.
Military-grade.
He cursed under his breath.
A metal door creaked open behind him.
A tall man in a charcoal coat stepped inside.
His face remained hidden beneath the brim of a dark hat.
"You've caused quite a mess."
Ryan stood.
"I want my money."
The man laughed quietly.
"You've forgotten your position."
"I did everything you asked."
"You failed."
"They found Emily."
"You promised they'd never suspect me."
The stranger picked up the flash drive.
"No."
"I promised you'd be useful."
Ryan swallowed.
"What's on it?"
The man smiled faintly.
"You never should have looked."
Before Ryan could react, another figure emerged from the shadows.
A woman.
Elegant.
Calm.
She placed a sealed envelope on the table.
"Your payment."
Ryan reached for it.
The woman didn't let go.
"One condition."
"What?"
"When this is over..."
"You disappear."
Ryan frowned.
"And if I don't?"
The woman looked directly into his eyes.
"Then you'll disappear anyway."
Back at the hospital...
Daniel gathered everyone who had entered Emily's room during the previous hour.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Custodians.
Maintenance staff.
One by one, they were identified.
Everyone except one.
"There is no employee matching the description," the hospital administrator admitted.
Daniel frowned.
"So the uniform was fake."
"Or stolen."
A young security guard hesitated before speaking.
"I... I remembered something."
Daniel turned.
"What?"
"The fake maintenance worker wasn't carrying tools."
"What was he carrying?"
"A white envelope."
James's eyes narrowed.
"Did he leave it behind?"
The guard nodded toward the bedside cabinet.
"It was there after he vanished."
No one had noticed it.
Daniel carefully slipped on gloves before opening the envelope.
Inside was a single photograph.
James froze.
It was taken years earlier.
Emily.
About sixteen years old.
Standing beside her late mother at a county fair.
Neither of them had any connection to Ryan.
Or Linda.
On the back, written in black ink, were eight chilling words:
This began long before she met your son-in-law.
A second sheet slid from the envelope.
It wasn't a letter.
It was a map.
One location had been circled in red.
An abandoned private maternity clinic on the outskirts of Chicago.
At the bottom, another handwritten message waited.
Ask what happened in Room 214.
Daniel looked at James.
"This isn't a threat."
James nodded slowly.
"It's an invitation."
"To what?"
James folded the map carefully.
"To the place where this story really began."
Neither man noticed that someone was watching them from the end of the hallway.
A woman dressed as a hospital volunteer lowered her phone after taking three quick photographs.
She typed a single message.
They're going to the clinic. Prepare Room 214.
A reply arrived almost instantly.
May you like
Let them come.
They've only uncovered the first layer.
