Chapter 5 - The Snake in the House
The medical wing of the Ferretti estate operated like a high-end hospital surgical room.
For four agonizing hours, red warning lights flashed outside the operating doors while Dr. Vance and two emergency nurses fought to save Aleandro's life.
In the waiting corridor, the air was thick with tension.
Marco sat on a bench, his gun resting on his knee, his eyes scanning every guard who passed. A betrayal at the north gate meant one thing: someone high up in the organization had taken money from the Morello syndicate in Providence. Someone with security clearance. Someone currently standing in this house.
Clara sat on the floor near the wall, holding Lily tightly in her arms. The little girl had finally fallen asleep, her small head resting on Clara's shoulder, her pink nightgown still stained with Aleandro’s blood.
Beside them, lying flat across Clara's feet like a living shield, was Bruno. The dog refused to leave the child. He wouldn't eat the meat Clara had offered him. He wouldn't drink water. He kept one dark eye open, watching every movement in the hallway.
The heavy doors opened, and Dr. Vance walked out, pulling off his surgical mask. He looked exhausted, his gray hair damp with sweat, but his eyes were clear.
"He's stable," Dr. Vance announced quietly.
A collective sigh of relief swept through the guards.
"The bullet is out," Vance continued. "We repaired the artery and patched the lung tissue. He’s heavily sedated, but he’s strong. He’ll survive."
Marco stood up, wiping his face. "Thank God."
"I need to check his vitals again in an hour," Dr. Vance added, turning toward the supply cabinet. "I’ll prepare the antibiotic IVs."
As Dr. Vance walked toward the pharmacy room at the end of the hall, Marco’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, looking at the encrypted screen. It was a message from his primary intelligence operative in Boston.
The payout for the north gate breach came from a shell account in Nassau. Sent two hours before the attack. Recipient: Dr. Arthur Vance.
Marco felt his blood run colder than the marble floor in the great hall.
He slowly looked up toward the pharmacy room where Dr. Vance had just entered.
The doctor wasn't just saving Aleandro. He was setting up the secondary play. An antibiotic IV infused with potassium chloride would cause cardiac arrest within three minutes—and no surgeon in the world would question a heart failure after heavy blood loss.
"Marco?" Clara asked, noticing his sudden stillness. "Is something wrong?"
Marco didn't answer. He drew his pistol, pulling the slide back with a sharp, lethal click.
Before Marco could take a single step toward the pharmacy, Bruno stood up.
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The dog didn't look at Marco. He looked at the pharmacy door. His nostrils flared, picking up the faint, chemical scent of a glass vial being cracked open inside the room.
The beast didn't bark. He charged.
