Chapter 28 - THE DOCTOR ON THE FLOOR
Elena dropped beside Voss.
For one terrible second, she remembered him on the other side of a medical bed.
Same gray hair.
Same hands.
Same controlled breathing.
But the positions were reversed.
Voss was vulnerable.
Elena held the decision.
A part of her hated that saving him mattered.
Another part hated that she cared whether she became the kind of person who watched someone die because of what they had done to her.
She refused to let Voss decide that part of her either.
"Stay with the problem," Claire said.
Elena nodded.
The problem was Sanctuary.
The problem was a live witness.
The problem was breathing.
Not revenge.
She checked his airway the way Dr. Holt had shown her earlier that week during basic emergency instruction.
The lesson had been intended to help Elena feel safer around medical situations.
Nobody imagined she would use it on Voss.
Irony did not make her hands steadier.
Practice did.
Alejandro watched without interfering.
He knew how badly he wanted to take over whenever Elena faced something frightening.
He also knew she would ask if she wanted him.
That trust was an active restraint on him.
When Voss finally woke, his first instinct was to reach for Elena's wrist.
She pulled back instantly.
His hand fell.
"Don't touch me."
"I wasn't—"
"I don't care what you intended."
Voss nodded weakly.
"Understood."
The boundary came without explanation.
It did not require one.
Elena returned the oxygen mask to his face because keeping him alive still served the mission.
Compassion and distance could occupy the same action.
His breathing was shallow but steady.
Alejandro fought dizziness beside her.
Claire crawled to the medical case.
"What reverses this?"
Voss did not answer.
He was unconscious.
Elena opened the case.
Most medications had been removed before transport.
Only basic emergency supplies remained.
Oxygen.
Saline.
A blood-pressure cuff.
Glucose.
No reversal drug.
The Swiss representatives were conscious but sluggish.
Amelie checked Voss's pulse.
"Strong enough."
Elena looked at the terminal.
50%.
The system waited.
No progress.
A message appeared.
WITNESS RECONFIRMATION REQUIRED WITHIN 00:14:59.
Fifteen minutes.
If Voss did not respond, the current session would close.
The fifty-percent checkpoint would remain, but reopening required a new live witness session.
Camille could keep repeating attacks until time expired.
Alejandro tried the vault radio.
"Medical emergency."
Static.
The jammer had strengthened.
Elena looked at the wire running through the vent.
The power cable also carried a simple signaling line.
Claire had an idea.
She disconnected the terminal briefly from data output but not power.
Then tapped voltage through the line in a pattern.
Three.
Two.
Three.
Outside, the technician saw the signal fluctuate.
"They're communicating."
Brooks ordered the line monitored.
Claire tapped a second pattern using numbers from the old intercom code.
M-E-D.
Medical.
Brooks understood enough.
"Get Holt to the west vent."
Dr. Karen Holt had remained on the estate for Elena and Rosa.
She reached the foundation wall with an emergency kit.
The vent was too narrow for medication packages larger than a few centimeters.
A nasal stimulant spray might fit.
So might a small syringe with a protected needle.
But Holt did not know what chemical Camille had used.
Treating blindly could worsen Voss's condition.
They needed a sample.
Inside, Voss's coat carried residue from the air.
Elena used a sterile swab and placed it in a narrow specimen tube.
They tied the tube to the guidewire and pushed it out through the vent.
Seven minutes remained.
Holt smelled the sample cautiously from a distance and recognized an anesthetic compound often used in controlled clinical environments.
Voss had likely prepared it himself for the old operations.
Holt knew the supportive response.
Fresh oxygen.
Airway stimulation.
A specific emergency medication could help increase respiratory drive in a monitored setting.
The syringe fit through the vent line inside a protective plastic sleeve.
Four minutes remained.
Elena received it.
She stared at the syringe.
For three years, needles meant Voss deciding what entered her body.
Now Voss lay helpless in front of her.
The symbolism was almost unbearable.
Alejandro saw her freeze.
"You don't have to do it."
Elena looked at him.
"Someone has to."
"Claire can."
Elena shook her head.
"No."
She turned toward Voss.
"I want to choose what happens next."
Under Dr. Holt's instructions transmitted through the wire signals and a briefly restored narrow-band radio, Elena administered the emergency medication.
Then oxygen.
Then waited.
Two minutes.
Voss did not move.
One minute thirty.
His eyelids fluttered.
Elena leaned close.
"Wake up."
No response.
One minute.
She tapped his cheek lightly.
"You don't get to disappear now."
His eyes opened.
Confused.
Elena almost laughed from relief.
"Name."
Voss stared at her.
"What?"
"Say your name."
"Malcolm Voss."
"Good."
She looked at the terminal.
Twenty-eight seconds.
"Sit up."
Voss struggled.
Alejandro and Claire helped him into the chair.
The camera recognized his face.
The terminal asked,
"Do you remain willing to provide sworn verification?"
Voss breathed through the oxygen mask.
"Yes."
Six seconds remained.
Green light.
SESSION CONTINUED.
51%.
Elena leaned back against the wall.
Voss looked at her.
"You saved my life."
She met his eyes.
"No."
"I saved the witness."
"You can decide what to do with the life after court does."
He looked down.
Outside, Brooks's teams closed in on Camille's last known route.
The sedative gas line led from the vault intake through the winter garden wall.
Someone had attached a pressurized canister.
A remote valve controlled it.
The transmitter signal came from inside the mansion.
Mateo triangulated it to the old nursery on the second floor.
The nursery had been empty for years.
Alejandro and Elena had once planned to turn it into a child's room.
After Elena disappeared, Alejandro locked it and never entered again.
Camille had chosen another room grief kept closed.
Brooks approached with two agents.
The door was ajar.
Inside was a portable control station.
Cameras showed the vault.
Generator room.
East wing fire.
Main staircase.
Police positions.
Camille had been coordinating everything from a room nobody wanted to open.
But she was not there.
A timer controlled the gas valve.
A laptop showed the Sanctuary progress.
58%.
59%.
60%.
One camera feed showed something else.
The front foyer.
Marta stood near the staircase with an officer.
Behind them, a female federal medic entered carrying a trauma bag.
Brooks stared.
She had not requested another medic.
The woman's face was partly hidden by a mask.
Her height matched Camille.
"Foyer."
Brooks ran.
The medic approached Marta.
"We need to evacuate you."
Marta frowned.
"Who sent you?"
"Detective Brooks."
"She told me to stay here."
The medic's eyes changed.
Marta stepped backward.
Camille reached for her.
Marta swung the heavy brass lamp from the console table.
It hit Camille's shoulder.
The mask slipped.
"You," Marta said.
Camille grabbed her wrist.
The officer beside them reached for his weapon.
Camille kicked the back of his knee and shoved him into the wall.
She pulled a small pistol from the trauma bag.
Marta froze.
Camille put the gun against her side.
"Move."
Marta looked toward the security camera.
Then tapped her finger against her apron.
Three.
Two.
Three.
Wait.
Brooks saw it from the nursery monitor.
She slowed instead of charging into the foyer.
Marta was buying time.
Camille forced her toward the west corridor.
Toward the vault.
She still needed Alejandro.
The biometric device was inside her trauma bag.
The plan became clear.
Use Marta to force the vault release.
Take Alejandro's live palm.
Declare him incapacitated.
May you like
Stop Sanctuary before one hundred percent.
The progress bar reached 67%.
