Chapter 12 - Toxin in the Blood
The city burned for three consecutive nights.
From the top floor of the clinic, Clara could see the orange glow of fires lighting up the industrial district.
Victor had kept his promise, unleashing the full, terrifying might of the Kaine Syndicate upon the Russian invaders.
But the Bratva was not backing down as easily as the Colombians had.
The emergency room was overflowing with collateral damage from the escalating gang war.
Clara hadn't slept in over forty-eight hours, fueled only by black coffee and sheer adrenaline.
She was suturing a deep laceration on a young bystander's arm when the hospital's backup generators suddenly kicked on with a loud groan.
The main power grid to the building had been deliberately severed.
Silas burst through the ER doors, his expensive suit torn and covered in soot.
"Dr. Hayes, you need to come with me right now," Silas commanded, his usual icy calm replaced by urgent panic.
"Is it Victor?" Clara asked, dropping her instruments and feeling her blood turn to ice.
"No, it is the clinic," Silas replied, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the stairwell.
"The Russians hacked the ventilation system and they are pumping aerosolized Red Snow into the lower levels."
Clara gasped, horror washing over her as she realized the scale of the Bratva's cruelty.
"There are over two hundred innocent patients in this building!" she yelled, running up the stairs alongside Silas.
"We need to shut down the main HVAC intake on the roof before it circulates into the wards."
They reached the top floor, kicking open the heavy metal door that led to the hospital's flat roof.
The freezing night air whipped Clara's hair around her face as she sprinted toward the massive steel ventilation units.
Three men dressed in black tactical gear were standing near the main intake valve, hooking up pressurized chemical tanks.
Silas did not waste time with warnings or negotiations.
He drew his weapon and fired, dropping the first Russian soldier with a single shot to the head.
The other two men returned fire immediately, forcing Silas and Clara to dive behind a concrete pillar.
Bullets ricocheted off the concrete, sending sharp chips of debris flying into the air.
"I need to get to that valve, Silas!" Clara shouted over the deafening roar of gunfire.
"If that gas hits the pediatric ward, those children will die in agonizing pain."
Silas checked his magazine, his face grim.
"When I move, you run for the valve and do not look back."
Silas stepped out from cover, laying down a heavy suppression fire that forced the remaining mercenaries to duck.
Clara scrambled across the wet, slippery tar of the roof, ignoring the burning scrape on her knees.
She reached the massive metal wheel of the intake valve and gripped it with both hands.
It was rusted tight, refusing to budge under her weight.
A bullet slammed into the metal casing inches from her head, showering her with sparks.
She screamed in frustration, using every ounce of strength in her body to pull the wheel downward.
With a loud metallic screech, the valve finally spun, cutting off the airflow to the building completely.
Before she could celebrate, a massive hand grabbed her by the throat from behind and lifted her off her feet.
The last Russian soldier had flanked her, his combat knife pressed tightly against her jugular vein.
"The boss said to bring the doctor back alive," the man sneered in a thick, heavy accent.
Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed across the rooftop, followed by the sound of a heavy helicopter descending rapidly.
The intense spotlight of the chopper blinded the Russian soldier, making him loosen his grip for a fraction of a second.
Clara didn't hesitate.
She drove her elbow backward into the man's ribs, then spun around and plunged a syringe full of liquid epinephrine directly into his thigh.
The massive dose of pure adrenaline shocked his heart instantly, causing him to collapse to the roof clutching his chest.
Victor leaped from the hovering helicopter before it even touched the ground.
He ran to Clara, pulling her into his chest and burying his face in her hair.
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"You are supposed to be saving lives inside, not fighting mercenaries on the roof," Victor growled, his voice thick with terror and relief.
"Someone has to protect our investment," Clara breathed, wrapping her arms around his waist as the helicopter rotors spun above them.
