Chapter 8 - THE RIVER BUILDING
Chicago police located the stolen ambulance on a traffic camera heading east.
Thirty seconds later, another camera captured it turning south.
Then it disappeared.
The vehicle’s transponder had been disabled.
The license plate belonged to a private transport company whose ambulance had been stolen that morning.
James stood beside Officer Carter’s patrol vehicle while dispatch filled the radio with possible sightings.
His right palm was torn from the fall.
A paramedic tried to bandage it.
James pulled his hand away.
“Later.”
“You may need stitches.”
“My daughter needs an ambulance.”
The paramedic wrapped the hand anyway while James watched the map on Officer Carter’s tablet.
Marcus climbed into the rear seat.
Colonel Rebecca Shaw called with military police support, but James refused to turn the search into an unauthorized military operation.
“This is Chicago jurisdiction,” he said.
“Then let us provide analysts.”
“Send information through police command.”
Rebecca understood what he was doing.
He would not give Ryan’s attorneys any basis to claim military coercion or evidence contamination.
Discipline again demanded the harder path.
Officer Carter replayed the last clear traffic image.
The ambulance passed beneath a railway bridge.
A faded blue logo appeared on the side panel beneath the newer transport-company decal.
Marcus enlarged it.
“Midwestern Allied.”
The stolen vehicle had once belonged to the medical company.
James looked at the route.
“What properties does Midwestern Allied own near the river?”
Margaret joined by phone from the hospital.
Northstar records showed three.
One was an active distribution warehouse.
One was leased to a clinic.
The third was an abandoned sterilization facility along the South Branch of the Chicago River.
Employees called it the river building.
Officer Carter requested tactical units to converge there.
James insisted on riding with her.
“You are a civilian in this investigation,” she said.
“I am also the only person Emily expects to come through the door.”
“You cannot enter during a tactical operation.”
“I did not say I would.”
Officer Carter studied him.
Then she pointed toward the rear seat.
“Stay in the vehicle until I tell you otherwise.”
James got in.
The drive took fourteen minutes.
Every red light felt personal.
Inside the ambulance, Martin Vale removed Emily’s hospital monitor and replaced it with a portable device.
He injected something into her IV despite her struggle.
The drug made the edges of the vehicle blur.
Emily forced herself to remain awake.
She counted turns.
Right.
Left.
A long straight road.
Railroad tracks.
Then the smell of the river entered through a cracked vent.
She remembered Linda’s words.
The baby was the only reason she remained alive.
That meant they still needed the trust transfer.
It also meant they could not risk killing her before delivery.
The realization gave her a narrow weapon.
“You cannot drug me too much,” she whispered.
Martin looked at her.
“You need the baby alive.”
He smiled without warmth.
“You finally understand your value.”
“Ryan will never get the trust now.”
“Ryan is not the person who needs it.”
“Linda?”
Martin did not answer.
The ambulance stopped inside a dark loading bay.
Men rolled Emily’s bed into the abandoned facility.
Plastic curtains hung from rusted ceiling tracks.
Old steel tables lined the walls.
The building smelled of damp concrete and chemicals.
A portable generator powered several lights and a medical warmer.
Someone had prepared for a birth.
Emily saw sealed surgical supplies, infant oxygen equipment, and a small bassinet.
Fear moved through her more sharply than the contractions.
Dr. Harold Wynn stood near the equipment.
He wore no suit now.
His sleeves were rolled up.
He looked exhausted.
“Why is she awake?” he asked.
Martin locked the loading door.
“She fought the medication.”
Wynn checked Emily’s pulse.
“She is contracting.”
“She has been contracting since the hospital,” Martin said.
Wynn looked toward Emily’s abdomen.
“If labor progresses, we need Pierce.”
“Pierce is in custody.”
Wynn swore quietly.
Emily stared at him.
“You told everyone I was crazy.”
Wynn avoided her eyes.
“I wrote what I was paid to write.”
“You knew they were hurting me.”
“I knew your marriage was unstable.”
“You came into my bedroom while Linda stood behind you.”
“You saw the bruises.”
Wynn’s face tightened.
“This is not the time.”
“It was never the time for you.”
Martin ordered Wynn to prepare a sedative.
The psychiatrist shook his head.
“Too much could suppress fetal respiration.”
“Then use less.”
“What is the plan?”
“We keep her here until Mercer signs.”
Emily listened carefully.
“What does Ryan have to sign?”
Martin looked at her.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“If you needed Ryan’s signature, Linda would not be giving orders from jail.”
Martin’s expression changed slightly.
Emily understood.
Linda had found a way to communicate despite detention.
A lawyer.
A guard.
Or a phone smuggled into the facility.
Wynn attached a blood pressure cuff.
The reading alarmed him.
“She needs a hospital.”
“She came from one.”
“She may have placental separation.”
Martin stepped closer.
“Keep the baby alive.”
“And Emily?”
Martin glanced toward her.
“For now.”
Outside, police vehicles approached without sirens.
Officer Carter’s unit stopped two blocks away.
A tactical commander briefed the team using building plans supplied by Northstar.
The facility contained a main loading bay, two processing floors, a basement mechanical area, and a river access door.
Thermal imaging showed at least five people inside.
One body lay horizontally near the center of the first floor.
James stared at the image.
“That is Emily.”
“Likely,” the commander said.
“We cannot confirm.”
“What is the entry plan?”
“Two teams.”
“North loading door and east service entrance.”
“Snipers cover the river exit.”
James pointed toward a narrow line on the blueprint.
“What is that?”
“Old sterilization conduit.”
“Does it connect to the basement?”
“Yes.”
“And the loading bay?”
The commander looked closer.
“It opens behind the processing wall.”
James remembered visiting field sterilization units built with similar layouts.
“Someone could move through it.”
“Not comfortably.”
“But quietly.”
The commander shook his head.
“You are not entering that building.”
“I know.”
James meant it when he said it.
Then a phone rang inside Officer Carter’s vehicle.
It was Emily’s phone, which had remained in police evidence after being recovered from the apartment.
The screen showed James’s name as the caller.
Someone was spoofing his number.
Officer Carter answered on speaker.
Martin’s voice came through.
“Colonel Bennett.”
James leaned toward the phone.
“Let me speak to Emily.”
“You will hear her when you follow instructions.”
A muffled cry sounded in the background.
James kept his voice level.
“What do you want?”
“You will send a statement to the inspector general.”
“You will admit directing Kessler to manipulate contracts.”
“You will say Ryan discovered the fraud and tried to protect Emily from you.”
“And then?”
“You will disappear.”
Officer Carter wrote rapidly on a pad.
James continued.
“You need my signature.”
“We already have your signature.”
“Then why call?”
“Because forged evidence creates doubt.”
“A confession creates closure.”
James looked at the thermal image.
One heat signature moved toward the river side.
Another remained beside Emily.
“Let her go first.”
Martin laughed.
“You know better than that.”
Emily’s voice suddenly came through.
“Dad, do not do it.”
A slap sounded.
James’s face did not change.
Every person around him saw the effort behind that stillness.
“Emily,” he said.
“I am here.”
“They have medical equipment,” she said quickly.
“They planned for the baby.”
The call cut off.
The tactical commander gave the signal.
Teams moved toward both entrances.
Inside, Martin threw the phone onto a table.
“You should not have said that.”
Emily looked at him.
“My father heard more than the words.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are already out of time.”
A metallic crash sounded from the east side of the building.
Martin pulled a handgun.
Wynn backed away.
The loading door exploded inward under a police ram.
Officers shouted commands.
Martin grabbed Emily’s bed and rolled it toward the river corridor.
Wynn stood frozen.
A police officer tackled him.
Martin fired twice toward the loading bay.
Officers returned fire.
He disappeared behind the plastic curtains with Emily.
The bed struck a rusted pipe and tipped sideways.
Emily hit the floor.
Pain tore across her abdomen.
Warm liquid spread beneath her.
Her water had broken.
Martin pulled her by the arm.
“Get up.”
“I can’t.”
He raised the gun.
A voice came from the darkness behind him.
“Drop it.”
Martin turned.
James stood at the end of the old sterilization conduit.
He had entered only after hearing gunfire and seeing the tactical team lose sight of Emily’s heat signature.
His injured hand held a metal pipe.
Martin aimed the gun at Emily’s stomach.
“You take one step, Colonel, and your grandchild dies.”
James lowered the pipe.
“Then you have me.”
Martin smiled.
“That was always the plan.”
James raised his hands and moved forward slowly.
Martin shifted the gun toward him.
Emily saw the change.
She grabbed the loose brake lever from the overturned bed and struck Martin’s wrist.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
James crossed the distance.
He drove Martin against the wall and knocked the weapon away.
Officers flooded the corridor seconds later.
Martin was restrained.
Emily curled around her abdomen.
“The baby.”
James dropped beside her.
Dr. Patel had not come with the police, but tactical medics rushed forward.
Emily was bleeding.
Her contractions were now less than three minutes apart.
They loaded her onto a rescue stretcher and carried her toward the waiting ambulance.
This time, James checked every badge and every face.
He climbed inside with her.
As the doors closed, Officer Carter approached holding Martin’s phone.
“We found messages from Linda’s attorney.”
James looked at her.
“The attorney arranged the call from jail?”
“Not just the call.”
Officer Carter’s expression was grim.
“He sent the hospital evacuation route, the transport roster, and Emily’s medical status.”
“Name?”
“Martin Creed.”
Ryan’s family-court attorney had not merely defended the petition.
He had helped kidnap the woman whose freedom the court had just protected.
The ambulance pulled away.
Emily cried out as another contraction struck.
The medic checked the monitor.
“We may not make it to the hospital before delivery.”
James took Emily’s hand.
Then the medic looked down and froze.
Beneath the blood on Emily’s gown was a small adhesive sensor no one from the hospital had placed.
May you like
A red light blinked on its edge.
It was transmitting their location.
