These weren’t just criminals. They weren’t just traffickers or hired guns. They were something else.
And they were here for Annie. Rachel Monroe stiffened beside him, her fingers twitching toward the gun holstered at her hip. We have a problem, she murmured.
Tim’s jaw clenched. No kidding. The leader, the bald man who had smiled at them through the window, strode forward with absolute confidence, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
His posture wasn’t aggressive. He wasn’t brandishing a weapon. Because he didn’t need to.
He had already won. A hospital security guard stepped forward. Excuse me, gentlemen.
This facility is on lockdown. No visitors are allowed. The bald man reached into his jacket and pulled out a government-issued ID.
Not just any ID. A Department of Defense badge. Tim’s stomach plummeted.
Dr. Keaton’s daughter is under our jurisdiction, the bald man announced, his voice smooth, authoritative. We’re here to take custody of her immediately. Tim saw red.
Before Rachel could stop him, he stormed forward. The hell you are, he growled. The bald man turned his attention to him, unfazed.
Officer Watson, isn’t it? Tim’s spine stiffened. The man knew his name. His gaze flicked to Rachel.
And Agent Monroe. It’s a pleasure. Rachel stepped beside Tim, her expression cold.
Wish I could say the same, she said flatly. The man smiled again. We appreciate your work in securing the girl.
We’ll take it from here. Tim’s fists curled. She’s not a damn package.
You don’t just walk in and claim her like a lost piece of luggage. The bald man’s eyes gleamed with amusement. Actually, Officer Watson, that’s exactly what we do.
Tim’s blood boiled. Rachel took a slow step forward. Tell me something, she said, her voice dangerously calm.
Why does a six-year-old girl have a government tracker inside her? The bald man tilted his head. That information is classified. Tim let out a humorless laugh.
Yeah, that’s not gonna work for me. The bald man didn’t react. She is a federal asset.
She comes with us. Tim stepped between them and the hospital room door. Not happening.
The room went silent. The men in black suits tensed. Rachel’s hand hovered near her holster.
For a long, heavy moment, no one moved. Then the bald man sighed. You’re making this difficult.
Tim didn’t budge. You have no idea. Then the lights flickered.
Tim’s breath stalled. The entire hospital flickered. The overhead lights surging, then dimming, then surging again.
A warning siren blared over the intercom. Rachel’s phone buzzed violently. She yanked it out, her face twisting in confusion.
What the hell? Then she froze. Tim, she whispered. The signal.
Tim’s pulse pounded. She turned the screen toward him. The signal strength had just spiked to a hundred percent.
Whatever was coming for Annie. It was here. The hospital plunged into chaos.
The warning siren blared through the halls, echoing off sterile walls as the overhead lights continued to flicker erratically. Nurses rushed between stations, their voices urgent as they scrambled to secure patients. Security officers grabbed their radios, demanding answers.
But Tim Watson knew no one had them. Because whatever was happening wasn’t normal. Rachel Monroe stood frozen beside him, staring at her phone screen.
The signal. The one inside Annie. Had jumped to full capacity.
What the hell does this mean? Tim barked. Rachel shook her head. It means something just activated it.
Tim turned sharply to the bald man in the black suit. You knew this was coming. The man didn’t deny it.
His posture remained composed. But his eyes had shifted. Calculating.
He reached into his jacket, not for a weapon, but for a small earpiece. Control, we’ve hit a breach. Initiate full protocol.
A crackled response came through. Acknowledged. Extraction in progress.
Tim’s stomach twisted. Extraction? The bald man met his gaze. Your part in this is over, Officer Watson.
Tim saw red. The bastard was taking Annie. He lunged, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the nearest wall.
You don’t get to decide that. For the first time, the man’s calm demeanor faltered. His hands shot up, but Tim had the advantage.
Rage. Adrenaline. And fifteen years of law enforcement training.
Rachel’s voice snapped through the chaos. Tim, we need to move. Then, a new sound erupted.
Something mechanical. The overhead lights died completely, plunging the hospital into darkness. A second later, red emergency lights flickered on, bathing everything in a dim, pulsing glow.
The alarm changed its tone. A deep, distorted hum that vibrated through the floor. And then, the elevator doors at the end of the hall slid open.
Tim turned toward them. His blood ran cold. A figure stepped out.
Tall, dressed in black, moving too smoothly. Too. Too precisely.
And behind it. More followed. Rachel inhaled sharply.
No way. Tim had no idea who or what they were looking at, but he knew one thing. They weren’t here to rescue Annie.
They were here to take her. The figures moved with a precision that wasn’t natural. Tim had spent his life reading people.
Predicting their next move. Spotting nervous twitches. Picking up on subtle cues.
But these things, whatever they were, didn’t move like normal men. They walked in perfect synchronization. Their long strides eerily smooth.
Their heads never turning as they approached. The hospital’s emergency lights pulsed red across their all-black clothing, casting long shadows against the sterile walls. Tim felt the weight of his gun at his hip.
But for the first time in years, he wasn’t sure if a weapon would make a difference. Rachel’s voice was low. Tight.
Tim. He didn’t turn his head, keeping his eyes locked on the figures. Yeah? Tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.
Tim swallowed hard. Oh, I’m seeing it. Rachel’s fingers hovered near her holster.
They’re not blinking. She was right. Their eyes.
Dark. Empty. Unfeeling.
Never wavered. And they were walking directly toward Annie’s hospital room. Tim took a slow step forward, placing himself between them and the door.
Not one more step. The figures stopped. The hallway fell deathly silent.
The alarm continued its low, distorted hum, but no one moved. Then, for the first time, one of them spoke. We are here for the child.
The voice wasn’t human. It was flat. Almost robotic.
Lacking any trace of emotion. Tim felt his pulse hammer against his ribs. Not happening.
The figure tilted its head, as if processing his words. Then, it took another step forward. Tim’s body reacted before his brain could catch up.
His hand shot to his gun, the metal cool against his palm. Last warning. Another step.
Tim pulled the trigger. The gunshot roared through the hallway. The bullet slicing through the air and slamming directly into the figure’s chest.
But it didn’t fall. Tim’s stomach dropped. The bullet had hit.
He knew it had. But the thing in front of him didn’t even flinch. It didn’t stagger.
It didn’t react at all. Instead, it kept walking. Rachel fired next.
Three clean shots. Center mass. Nothing.
Tim’s grip on his gun tightened. Oh, hell no. Rachel’s voice was sharp.
Urgent. We need to get Annie out of here. Now.
Tim didn’t argue. He turned on his heel, shoving the hospital room door open. Annie was still in bed, curled up against the sheets, her wide eyes filled with terror.
Annie, sweetheart, we have to go. Tim said, moving fast. Annie didn’t move.
She was shaking. Tim crouched, reaching for her. It’s okay.
I got you. She let out a small, broken whisper. They found me.
Tim’s stomach twisted. No, honey. We’re not letting them take you.
Rachel threw the door shut behind them. We need an exit now. Tim scooped Annie into his arms, her tiny body light as a feather.
Back stairwell. If we move fast, we can— The hospital shook. Not a small tremor, a deep, rattling vibration that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
The emergency lights flickered. And then— The walls cracked. Rachel grabbed Tim’s arm.
Go. Go now. Tim sprinted, holding Annie close, his heart hammering.
And behind him, the figures kept coming. Tim Watson had been through car chases, shootouts, and hostage situations. He had faced criminals so twisted they made his skin crawl.
But never this. Annie trembled in his arms as he sprinted down the hospital corridor, Rachel Monroe right behind him, her gun still drawn even though they both knew it was useless. The figures—the ones who didn’t bleed, didn’t flinch, didn’t stop—were coming.
And the hospital was falling apart around them. The walls trembled with a deep, guttural vibration. Cracks spidering outward from the ceiling like something inside the building was trying to break free.
The red emergency lights pulsed, casting their shadows in long, warped streaks along the floor. Rachel kept looking over her shoulder. They’re still coming.
Tim didn’t dare look back. Just keep running. Annie’s fingers clutched at his jacket.
You can’t stop them, she whimpered. Tim tightened his grip on her. Watch me.
They rounded a corner and burst through a stairwell door, nearly slamming into two uniformed officers. What the hell is going on? One of them demanded, his hand on his holster. Tim didn’t slow down.
If you want to live, start running. Before the officers could react, the hallway behind them exploded with movement. The black-suited figures emerged in perfect unison, moving down the hallway like shadows peeling off the walls.
The officers reacted instantly, drawing their weapons. Freeze. Tim knew what was about to happen.
He didn’t wait for it. He pushed past them, Rachel hot on his heels, and took the stairs two at a time. Behind them, gunshots rang out, followed by silence.
Rachel let out a sharp breath. They don’t die, Tim’s jaw clenched. Then we don’t fight, we run.
The stairwell spiraled downward, each step shaking beneath their feet as the entire hospital shuddered. Annie buried her face against his chest. I don’t want to go back, she whimpered.
Tim didn’t slow. You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. I promise.
Rachel’s voice was tight. You better mean that because we’re running out of exits. They hit the ground floor and burst through another door, right into the emergency parking lot.
Tim skidded to a halt. Rachel cursed under her breath, because waiting for them, lined up like a wall of black steel, were more SUVs. And this time, the doors were already open.