Chapter 6 - THE DOCTOR AT THE MANSION
Gabriel hit the steel door again.
The impact traveled up his arm.
The lock held.
On the monitor, Mercer stood behind Eli with one hand resting on the boy's shoulder.
Eli looked up at him.
"Dad said you weren't coming today."
Mercer's smile never changed.
"Your father asked me to check on you."
Gabriel stopped breathing.
The lie was too familiar.
Owen had used the same sentence in the fire corridor.
Hannah slid down beside the desk.
The vapor thickened around them.
"Vent."
Her voice sounded distant.
Gabriel tore his eyes from the screen.
"What?"
"Air has to leave somewhere."
He looked toward the ceiling.
A return grate sat above the filing cabinets.
Gabriel dragged the desk beneath it.
His vision had already begun to pulse at the edges.
He climbed onto the desk and drove his elbow through the thin aluminum grate.
Metal cut his forearm.
He barely noticed.
Behind the grate was a narrow maintenance duct.
Too small for him.
Possibly large enough for Hannah.
He jumped down.
"Can you crawl?"
Hannah laughed weakly.
"That may be the least romantic proposal I've ever had."
"Hannah."
"Yes."
He lifted her onto the desk.
She caught the edge of the duct.
Her arms shook.
Gabriel pushed from below.
"Go."
"What about you?"
"Go."
"You won't fit."
"I know."
Hannah looked down at him.
For the first time since entering his house, she saw no command in his face.
Only Eli.
"Get to him."
Hannah pulled herself into the duct.
Gabriel returned to the monitor.
Mercer had moved in front of Eli now.
He opened a black medical case.
Inside were three syringes.
Gabriel's hand curled against the desk.
"Don't touch him."
His voice was barely a whisper.
Eli watched Mercer remove one syringe.
"What's that?"
"Something to help you sleep."
"I don't want it."
"You had a frightening night."
"I said no."
Gabriel's eyes widened.
Before Hannah, Eli rarely objected to treatment.
He simply disappeared behind silence.
Now the boy's voice was small but firm.
Mercer noticed the difference too.
"Your father already approved it."
Eli looked directly at the camera.
"No, he didn't."
Mercer's smile vanished.
Gabriel felt something fierce and painful move through his chest.
His son finally trusted him enough to recognize a lie told in his name.
Mercer reached for Eli's arm.
Eli pulled away.
"Don't."
Mercer caught his wrist.
The west sitting room door opened.
Hannah stepped inside.
Her hair was full of dust.
Blood ran from one scrape along her temple.
She held a heavy brass fireplace poker in both hands.
"Take your hand off him."
Mercer froze.
He looked genuinely surprised.
"Ms. Cole."
"Now."
Mercer released Eli.
His eyes moved toward the poker.
"You look unwell."
"You have no idea."
"Put that down before someone gets hurt."
Hannah laughed once.
"You mean before someone gets hurt without your permission?"
Mercer's face tightened.
Eli rolled his temporary chair backward.
Mercer moved subtly toward the doorway.
Hannah blocked him.
"Sit."
"You are a housekeeper threatening a physician in your employer's home."
"And you're a physician who arrived through a locked estate during a security shutdown."
Mercer stared at her.
Then his gaze dropped to her hands.
"You found the red room."
Hannah's pulse jumped.
She had not mentioned it.
Mercer realized too late what he had admitted.
Hannah stepped closer.
"Sit down."
Mercer moved instead.
Fast.
He threw the syringe toward her face.
Hannah flinched.
Mercer shoved past.
Eli swung the wooden sailboat from his lap and struck Mercer's knee.
It was not a strong blow.
But it surprised him.
He stumbled.
Hannah drove the poker against the wall beside his head.
"Next one doesn't miss."
Mercer stopped.
Eli stared at his own hands as if he could not believe what he had done.
Hannah looked at him.
"Good aim."
A small smile almost appeared.
Then the mansion lights went out.
Mercer lunged in darkness.
Hannah heard the door slam.
By the time emergency lights came on, he was gone.
Eli looked toward her.
"Where's Dad?"
Hannah's stomach dropped.
The gas.
She ran.
Back at Warehouse 17, Gabriel was on his knees.
The room tilted around him.
The monitor still showed Eli alive.
That was enough to keep him conscious.
He tore the sleeve from his shirt and wrapped it around his mouth.
Then he noticed a thin copper pipe running beside the locked door.
Fire suppression.
He pulled the heavy desk drawer out.
The steel drawer struck the pipe once.
Twice.
On the third hit, the pipe broke.
Water exploded into the room.
A pressure alarm shrieked.
The gas system cut automatically.
The door lock clicked open.
Gabriel fell through it into the stairwell.
Cold rain struck his face when he reached outside.
He vomited beside the wall, stood before his body was ready, and called Hannah.
She answered immediately.
"Eli is safe."
Gabriel closed his eyes.
His knees nearly failed.
"Mercer?"
"Gone."
"How did he get in?"
"I don't know."
"Find out."
Hannah was silent.
"Gabriel."
"What?"
"He knew about the red room."
Gabriel's eyes opened.
"How?"
"He said it."
Gabriel looked back at Warehouse 17.
Someone had triggered the gas remotely.
Someone had activated the monitor.
Someone had sent Mercer to Eli at exactly the same time.
It had not been an improvised attack.
It had been coordinated.
A choice.
Save yourself or save your son.
The old Gabriel would have called it leverage.
Tonight he understood the cruelty of the word.
"Search Mercer's case."
Hannah returned to the west room.
The black medical bag sat open on the table.
Most of it looked normal.
Blood pressure cuff.
Stethoscope.
Medication vials.
Then she found a sealed envelope beneath the lining.
Inside were copies of Eli's recent blood tests.
Several values had been changed by hand.
Hannah recognized one immediately.
A sedative metabolite.
The reported level was low.
The original machine printout underneath showed it was nearly four times higher.
Eli had been receiving more sedative than Gabriel knew.
For months.
Hannah's fingers went cold.
She called him back.
"They weren't only keeping him emotionally dependent."
"What are you saying?"
"Mercer has been chemically suppressing him."
Silence.
"How long?"
"I need the full records."
"Estimate."
Hannah looked at the dates.
"At least seven months."
Gabriel made no sound.
Hannah continued carefully.
"This could explain some of his fatigue, slowed responses, and why therapy plateaued."
"Could it damage him?"
"Possibly."
"Permanently?"
"I don't know."
Gabriel pressed his palm against the wet brick wall.
Seven months.
He had sat beside Eli's bed while the boy drifted through entire afternoons.
He had thanked Mercer for keeping him comfortable.
He had signed every prescription.
He had mistaken sedation for peace.
"Gabriel."
Hannah's voice was softer.
"Come home."
He looked toward the harbor.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"The red room still has six filing cabinets."
"You were just gassed."
"And they failed."
"That doesn't make you invincible."
"No."
Gabriel walked back toward the building.
"It makes them nervous."
He returned wearing a wet cloth over his face.
The gas had cleared.
He opened the last filing cabinet.
Inside were photographs of himself meeting politicians, union leaders, and shipping executives.
Blackmail material.
Recorded conversations.
Bank records.
The hidden empire had not simply been stealing from him.
It had been building a case against him.
At the bottom was a folder marked FAILSAFE.
Gabriel opened it.
The first page contained instructions.
If Subject G becomes noncompliant, initiate federal exposure package.
If Subject G attempts succession transfer, remove Subject E.
Gabriel read the second line twice.
Succession transfer.
Three months before Claire died, Gabriel had quietly begun placing legitimate Marlowe assets into a trust for Eli.
Only four people knew.
Gabriel.
Claire.
His attorney.
And Sebastian.
A final sheet was clipped inside.
It listed a date two weeks from now.
Beside the date were two words.
May you like
PHASE TWO.
