Chapter 3 - Someone on the Inside
Darkness lasted four seconds.
For ordinary people, four seconds was barely enough time to understand the lights had failed.
For Sarah, it was enough.
She crossed Marcus’s room before Detective Brooks could reach for her flashlight.
Sarah locked the door.
“Stay away from the window.”
Emergency lights flickered red.
A shadow moved beneath the door.
Brooks drew her weapon.
“Police! Identify yourself!”
No response.
Then footsteps retreated.
Brooks opened the door carefully.
The officer assigned to Marcus was lying beside the wall.
Alive.
Unconscious.
A small puncture mark showed near his neck.
Sarah dropped beside him.
“Pulse is strong.”
“What happened?” Brooks asked.
“Likely sedative.”
She checked his pupils.
“Someone knew exactly how much to use.”
Brooks radioed for backup.
Hospital security sealed the floor.
But whoever had attacked the officer was gone.
The implications were devastating.
Angel was not merely an employee stealing information.
Angel was actively protecting Dutch’s operation.
And Angel had just tried to reach Marcus.
Brooks moved Marcus under police protection to another floor using a false room assignment.
Sarah should have returned home.
Instead she found herself standing at a window overlooking the parking lot while dawn brightened the city.
She felt something she had hoped never to feel again.
Mission focus.
The dangerous ability to forget hunger, fatigue, and everything outside the problem.
Brooks approached.
“You're leaving.”
Sarah kept watching the parking lot.
“That's an order?”
“Strong suggestion.”
“The attacker knew how to dose a police officer without killing him.”
“I noticed.”
“They had medication ready.”
“I noticed that too.”
“They knew which room Marcus was in despite the police guard.”
Brooks folded her arms.
“Sarah.”
She turned.
“You cannot investigate this yourself.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
Brooks raised an eyebrow.
Sarah sighed.
“Fine. I was thinking about it.”
“That expression right there is exactly why I'm telling you to go home.”
Sarah reluctantly left.
Her apartment was small and quiet.
For months she had loved that silence.
That morning it felt unbearable.
She showered.
She made coffee.
She did not drink it.
At 10:30, someone knocked.
Sarah froze.
Nobody visited her without calling.
She approached quietly.
“Who is it?”
“Hannah.”
Sarah opened the door.
Hannah entered carrying two bags of food.
“I brought breakfast.”
“It’s nearly lunch.”
“You haven't slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“Correct. That's why I bought enough pancakes for two emotionally irresponsible healthcare professionals.”
Sarah laughed despite herself.
They sat at the kitchen counter.
For a while, neither discussed the attack.
Hannah finally said, “People at the hospital are scared.”
“They should be.”
“Not of Dutch.”
Sarah looked up.
“Of what?”
“Of whoever helped him.”
Sarah said nothing.
Hannah lowered her voice.
“There are rumors.”
“There are always rumors.”
“Pharmacy inventory has been wrong for months.”
Sarah leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
“Small discrepancies. Nobody cared because they were always explainable.”
“Explainable how?”
“Broken vials. incorrect counts. transfers.”
“Who handles investigations?”
“Administration and pharmacy compliance.”
“Richard Vale?”
“Sometimes.”
That name landed differently now.
Sarah hated herself for noticing.
Hannah continued.
“There's more.”
She unlocked her phone.
“A nurse named Gina left two months ago. She said someone accessed patient files using her credentials while she was off duty.”
“What happened?”
“IT blamed password sharing.”
“Did Gina share hers?”
“She swore she didn't.”
Sarah asked, “Where is she now?”
“Colorado.”
“Convenient.”
Hannah frowned.
“You think someone forced her out?”
“I think coincidences deserve questions.”
That afternoon Detective Brooks called.
Dutch wanted to speak.
Not to Brooks.
To Sarah.
Brooks initially refused.
Then Dutch offered one sentence through his attorney.
Tell the nurse Angel is cleaning house.
Twenty minutes later Sarah sat across from Dutch in an interrogation room.
His wrists were cuffed to the table.
Bruising colored his jaw.
Yet he smiled.
“Super Nurse.”
Sarah sat down.
“You wanted me.”
Dutch laughed.
“Thought you’d be taller.”
“You already saw me.”
“Different when I'm not looking down a shotgun.”
Sarah ignored the provocation.
“Who's Angel?”
His smile disappeared.
“You think this ends because you put me on the floor?”
“You invaded a hospital.”
“Because Marcus panicked.”
“You could have walked away.”
Dutch leaned closer.
“You don't understand people like Angel.”
“I understand fear.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Something in Sarah’s expression made him stop smiling.
“Angel came to me three years ago,” Dutch said.
“Man or woman?”
“Never met face-to-face.”
“How did you communicate?”
“Burner phones. Drops.”
“Payments?”
“Crypto. Cash sometimes.”
“What did Angel provide?”
“Inventory schedules. delivery times. door codes.”
“Patient records?”
Dutch looked away.
“That was new.”
“And you allowed it.”
“I sell things.”
“You supplied criminals with sick people's addresses.”
His eyes hardened.
“Don't preach.”
“I'm not.”
Sarah leaned forward.
“I'm making sure you understand why I don't care whether Angel frightens you.”
Dutch studied her.
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because Angel knows who you are now.”
Sarah did not react.
Dutch smiled again.
“That got through.”
“What does Angel want?”
“Loose ends gone.”
“Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“You?”
“Probably.”
“Me?”
“Definitely.”
“Why?”
“You embarrassed the wrong people.”
Sarah leaned back.
“People?”
Dutch realized his mistake.
Angel was not alone.
Brooks, watching through the glass, would have noticed too.
Sarah asked, “How many?”
Dutch said nothing.
“Why attack Mercy General instead of waiting for Marcus outside?”
“Angel said he was talking.”
“To whom?”
“Didn't say.”
“How did Angel know?”
Silence.
Sarah stood.
Dutch spoke.
“There's something else.”
She stopped.
“The ER attack wasn't supposed to happen like that.”
“What does that mean?”
“Angel told us security would be disabled for six minutes. We go in, grab Marcus, leave.”
Sarah stared.
“You brought a shotgun and pipes.”
“Insurance.”
“You nearly killed civilians.”
Dutch's mouth tightened.
“I didn't order Ray to hit the doctor.”
Sarah did not care about his excuses.
“Six minutes,” she said.
Dutch nodded.
“Exactly six.”
That was precise.
Too precise.
Someone with direct access to Mercy General’s security software had coordinated the attack.
Sarah left the room.
Brooks joined her.
“He said people.”
“Yes.”
“And six minutes.”
“Yes.”
Brooks looked at Sarah.
“You're enjoying being right too much.”
“I'm not enjoying any of this.”
“You look energized.”
Sarah's face fell.
Brooks immediately understood she had touched something deeper.
“Sorry.”
Sarah looked through the glass at Dutch.
“This feeling is why I left.”
“What feeling?”
“Being useful when everything is going wrong.”
Brooks considered that.
“That isn't necessarily a bad thing.”
“It is when you don't know how to be useful anywhere else.”
That evening Mercy General reopened parts of the ER.
Sarah remained on leave.
She nevertheless returned to bring Dr. Reyes clothes before his discharge.
Miguel was standing beside his bed when she entered.
“You’re supposed to rest,” she said.
“So are you.”
“I wasn't struck with a steel pipe.”
“You fought four armed men.”
“Three and a half.”
“What?”
“One mostly fought the nurses’ station.”
Miguel stared.
“That was a joke.”
“Yes.”
“I’m witnessing personal growth.”
Sarah handed him the bag.
They left together.
Near the elevator, an elderly custodian named Walter pushed a mop bucket past them.
“Miss Cole.”
“Hi, Walter.”
He slowed.
“Glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you.”
Walter glanced around.
Then quietly said, “You should check the basement.”
Sarah stopped.
“What?”
He continued pushing his cart.
Miguel looked between them.
“Did the janitor just give you a mysterious clue?”
“Apparently.”
Sarah caught Walter before he reached the service elevator.
“What basement?”
He looked frightened.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You obviously did.”
Walter swallowed.
“Two nights ago I saw Mr. Kessler down there.”
“Who?”
“Hospital IT director.”
“What was unusual?”
“He was in the old records storage room.”
“At what time?”
“Almost three.”
“Maybe maintenance?”
Walter shook his head.
“He wasn't alone.”
Sarah waited.
“There was someone wearing a delivery uniform.”
“Did you see their face?”
“No.”
“What were they doing?”
“Moving boxes.”
“What kind?”
Walter lowered his voice.
“Medication cartons.”
Sarah’s pulse changed.
“Did you report it?”
“I told administration.”
“To whom?”
Walter looked toward the elevators.
“Mr. Vale.”
Richard Vale.
Hospital administrator.
“And?”
“Next morning Mr. Vale told me I'd misunderstood what I saw.”
Sarah and Miguel exchanged a look.
“Walter,” Sarah said gently, “don't go anywhere alone tonight.”
His face went pale.
“You think I'm in danger?”
“I think caution is cheap.”
The elevator opened.
Walter entered.
Before the doors closed, he said one more thing.
“There are cameras in that hallway.”
Sarah immediately called Brooks.
Brooks obtained authorization to review the footage.
There was only one problem.
The recordings from that night were gone.
Deleted.
Not corrupted.
Deleted.
May you like
And according to the system audit, the deletion had been performed using administrator credentials belonging to one person.
Richard Vale.
