Chapter 6 - The Siege of St. Augustine
Down on the second-floor pediatric and administrative wing, the afternoon shift was moving at its usual frantic pace. Nurses rushed past with medication carts, families whispered in waiting areas, and the intercom hummed with routine announcements.
Delphine Rios was standing at the medication dispensing station, signing off on a batch of antibiotic refills, when the hospital’s main fire alarms began to wail.
A shrill, ear-piercing shriek echoed through the corridors, accompanied by the automated emergency broadcast: “Attention all personnel. Code Silver initiated. Secure all zones. This is not a drill.”
A Code Silver. Active shooter or violent intrusion.
Every nurse in the hallway froze. Blood drained from young Hannah’s face as she dropped a clipboard onto the floor.
“Delphine... what’s happening?” Hannah stammered, her voice trembling. “Is it a gunman?”
“Get down behind the nurses' station desk right now!” Delphine ordered, her voice cutting through the panic with absolute authority. She didn't hesitate. She grabbed Hannah by the shoulders, shoving her down behind the reinforced mahogany counter, and immediately pulled the heavy steel security shutters halfway down, locking them into place.
Through the narrow gap at the bottom of the shutters, Delphine peered out into the main corridor.
The elevator banks at the end of the hall dinged.
The doors slid open.
Four men stepped out into the hallway. They weren't wearing police uniforms or tactical gear. They wore civilian jackets with hoods pulled low over their faces, and each of them carried suppressed submachine guns held at a low ready position. Leading them was Marco Vieri, his face twisted into an ugly, desperate snarl.
“Check every room!” Marco hissed to his men, his voice carrying clearly down the linoleum corridor. “The boss is recovering on the fourth floor, but security is locked down up there! Sweep this floor, clear out any witnesses, and use the service stairs to flank them from behind! I want no loose ends!”
Delphine’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
They’re here for him.
She thought of Salvatore Marchetti—recovering from major surgery just two floors above, vulnerable, heavily medicated, and completely exposed. She thought of Renzo. And she thought of the silver business card sitting safely inside the pocket of her scrub top.
She reached her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the cold metal card.
Call that number. Renzo’s voice echoed in her memory. My phone is on twenty-four hours a day.
Delphine pulled her smartphone out, her hands shaking slightly as she unlocked the screen and tapped the direct dial button assigned to Renzo’s card.
The phone rang once. Twice.
“Talk to me,” Renzo’s voice growled instantly on the other end, accompanied by the heavy, muffled sound of running footsteps and the metallic click of a firearm slide being racked.
“Renzo! It’s Delphine!” she whispered fiercely, pressing herself flat against the wall behind the desk. “They’re on the second floor! Marco Vieri and at least four armed men! They’re sweeping the rooms, heading for the service stairs to flank the fourth floor!”
There was a fraction of a second of dead silence on the line. When Renzo spoke again, his voice was terrifyingly calm.
“Where are you, Delphine?”
“Second-floor central station. Behind the locked security shutters.”
“Stay down. Do not move, do not open that shutter for anyone,” Renzo commanded. “We’re coming down.”
Before Delphine could answer, heavy boots pounded against the floor just outside the nurses' station.
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“Hey! Check behind that desk!” a harsh voice barked.
The shadow of a masked enforcer loomed against the frosted glass of the nurses' station. A heavy boot kicked violently against the lower wooden panel of the desk, splintering the mahogany just inches from where Delphine and Hannah crouched in the dark.
