Chapter 7 - Code Pink
“CODE PINK.”
The announcement thundered through the hospital.
“CODE PINK. NICU. INFANT ABDUCTION.”
Every elevator locked.
Exterior doors sealed.
Security staff flooded the corridors.
Arthur stared at the empty crib as though part of his body had been torn away.
“She was right there.”
I grabbed his shoulders.
“Arthur.”
“She was right there.”
“Listen to me.”
He looked at me.
“This hospital is locked down. She cannot just walk out carrying a premature infant.”
His face changed.
“She doesn’t need to walk out.”
“What?”
“She worked here eight years.”
The truth of that sentence hit immediately.
Rebecca knew service corridors.
Maintenance rooms.
Blind spots.
Loading docks.
Arthur turned to Nora.
“Where would Hannah go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
Nora shook her head.
“Rebecca isn’t Hannah.”
“I know.”
“But if Rebecca wants Arthur,” Richard said quietly, “she’ll choose somewhere connected to him.”
Arthur looked at him.
“Such as?”
Richard’s eyes narrowed.
“The hospital.”
“We’re already in it.”
“Not this hospital.”
Richard turned to Cole, who had returned during the lockdown announcement.
“Arthur’s military rehab.”
Arthur froze.
“St. Catherine’s?”
Richard nodded.
“Closed twelve years ago.”
Arthur’s expression changed.
The abandoned St. Catherine’s Military Rehabilitation Center sat on the western edge of Omaha.
Part of the property had been demolished.
The original therapy wing remained empty while developers fought over zoning.
“That’s where Emily visited me,” Arthur whispered.
Richard nodded.
“And where she gave you the key.”
Cole radioed officers immediately.
“Send units.”
Arthur headed for the exit.
Cole blocked him.
“No.”
“She has my granddaughter.”
“She has a medically fragile newborn who may not survive being transported without proper thermal support.”
Arthur’s face went white.
“Exactly.”
“That’s why paramedics and police go first.”
“She wants me.”
“And that makes you useful to us alive.”
Arthur clenched his hands.
The tremor had become violent.
“I can’t sit here.”
Nora suddenly spoke.
“Arthur.”
He turned.
“Hannah told me something about St. Catherine’s.”
“What?”
“She went there.”
“When?”
“A month ago.”
“Why?”
“She said Emily hid something in the building.”
Richard inhaled sharply.
“The evidence.”
Arthur looked at him.
Cole swore under his breath.
Nora continued.
“Hannah thought the storage box wasn’t the real secret.”
“Why?”
“Because she found a map.”
“What map?”
“In Emily’s belongings.”
Cole turned.
“Do you have it?”
“No.”
“Hannah took it.”
Arthur’s voice hardened.
“If Rebecca knew about the map—”
“She may think the baby leads to Hannah,” Nora said.
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
“She doesn’t need Hannah.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
Richard pointed at him.
“She needs Arthur.”
“Why?”
“The second key.”
Arthur touched the dog tag.
“The storage box.”
Richard nodded.
“If Gerald Sloan spent years looking for what Emily hid, Rebecca may believe the storage box contains it.”
“And she knows I have a key.”
“Maybe.”
Arthur looked toward the empty crib.
“Then she took the baby to make me open it.”
Cole was already issuing new instructions.
“Get units to the storage facility too.”
I stepped toward Arthur.
“Even if police let you go, you cannot carry her back safely without neonatal equipment.”
He looked at me.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if they locate her, I’m going.”
Cole immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“I’m a NICU nurse.”
“You’re also a civilian.”
“And that child may need someone who knows neonatal stabilization the moment she’s found.”
Cole looked annoyed because he knew I was right.
“We’ll send pediatric EMS.”
“Good.”
I crossed my arms.
“And me.”
Arthur almost smiled.
Cole muttered something under his breath.
Then his radio came alive.
“Possible suspect vehicle located. White hospital transport van, westbound on Dodge.”
Arthur’s head snapped up.
Cole grabbed his coat.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Arthur—”
The lights flickered.
Everything went dark.
For two seconds, the NICU existed only in red emergency lighting.
Then backup power engaged.
Alarms chirped.
Computer screens rebooted.
Security doors unlocked.
Cole looked toward the hallway.
“That’s not a coincidence.”
A hospital engineer’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Main power disruption. Someone triggered emergency override from lower maintenance.”
Rebecca.
She had planned the route.
Cole ran.
Arthur followed.
I followed Arthur.
We reached the service stairwell.
The door was open.
An officer lay unconscious on the landing.
His radio was gone.
Cole crouched.
“He’s breathing.”
Arthur saw blood on the wall.
Then he saw something else.
A small white hospital blanket.
He picked it up.
His face collapsed.
“She was here.”
I touched the fabric.
Warm.
“She was here recently.”
Cole radioed for medical support.
We moved down the stairs.
Basement level.
Laundry carts.
Supply rooms.
Mechanical pipes.
The hospital underground stretched farther than most people realized.
At the end of the corridor, an exterior loading door stood open.
Snow blew inside.
Tire tracks crossed the pavement.
The van was gone.
Arthur stared into the storm.
Cole’s radio crackled.
“Vehicle sighted, westbound.”
Then another voice.
“Suspect changing direction.”
“Toward where?”
The answer came.
“St. Catherine’s.”
Richard had been right.
Cole turned to Arthur.
“You come only if you follow every command.”
Arthur nodded.
“I will.”
“You do not approach Rebecca unless I tell you.”
Arthur hesitated.
Cole stepped closer.
“You get one chance.”
Arthur looked at the blanket in his hands.
“Fine.”
We traveled in an unmarked police SUV.
Snow thickened.
Sirens blurred through the gray afternoon.
Arthur sat beside me.
He said nothing for most of the drive.
Then he asked, “How long can she be away from the incubator?”
I hated the question.
“It depends.”
“Claire.”
“She’s premature. She can lose body heat fast.”
“How fast?”
“Arthur.”
“How fast?”
“Minutes matter.”
His jaw tightened.
I took his trembling hand.
“Rebecca worked in respiratory care. She knows basic neonatal risk.”
“That’s supposed to comfort me?”
“It means she may have taken precautions.”
He looked at me.
“Unless she wants her dead.”
I had no answer.
St. Catherine’s appeared through the snow.
Broken windows.
Boarded entrances.
An old brick building with the faded outline of a military insignia above the door.
Police vehicles surrounded the property.
Cole’s phone rang.
He answered.
“What?”
His expression changed.
He looked at Arthur.
“She called.”
Arthur straightened.
“Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“What does she want?”
“You.”
Arthur opened the SUV door.
Cole grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
“She wants me.”
“She also gave instructions.”
“What?”
Cole hesitated.
“She says Arthur enters alone.”
“No.”
“She says if she sees police—”
Cole looked at me.
“What?”
“She’ll disconnect the baby’s oxygen.”
Arthur went still.
I felt sick.
“She has oxygen?”
“That’s the good news.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
Cole continued.
“She says you bring the dog tag.”
Arthur touched his neck.
“And Richard’s key.”
“He’s on his way.”
Arthur looked at the old rehabilitation center.
Snow collected in his hair.
For a second, he looked exactly like the soldier he had once been.
Scared.
Focused.
Ready.
Richard’s SUV arrived three minutes later.
He stepped out.
Arthur walked to him.
“The key.”
Richard removed it.
Then he did something unexpected.
He closed his hand around Arthur’s.
“I’m sorry.”
Arthur stared.
“If she hurts that baby, sorry won’t save you.”
“I know.”
Richard released the key.
Arthur turned toward the building.
I caught his sleeve.
“Arthur.”
He looked at me.
“She needs warmth immediately when you get her.”
I opened my medical bag and gave him a thermal wrap.
“Inside your shirt if necessary. Skin-to-skin.”
He nodded.
“And Arthur?”
“Yes?”
“Come back with her.”
His eyes softened.
“I already failed one Sterling girl.”
He looked toward the dark doorway.
“I’m not failing another.”
Arthur entered alone.
The doors shut behind him.
Ten seconds later, Cole’s radio crackled.
A tactical officer whispered.
“Movement second floor.”
Cole raised binoculars.
I looked.
A shadow crossed a broken window.
Then another.
And for the briefest moment, I saw Rebecca Sloan standing behind the glass.
She was holding a bundle.
The baby.
Alive.
May you like
Arthur disappeared into the darkness below her.
Then a single gunshot exploded from inside the building.
