Mug of tea in her uninjured hand, Kate skimmed the files that Leah and Aiden had stolen from Harry Owen. It blew her mind what he had put on his laptop: memos marked ‘Private & Confidential’ from the Minister detailing the department’s approach to covering up the data breach, as well as information about border security system upgrades, including information about airport safety measures. There were also a series of files about NATO training exercises which included US naval forces, Emergency Management measures involving airport security, and, ironically, cyber security strategies.

But there weren’t any memos that screamed ‘terrorist target.’

Because they all did.

“Damn.” She needed to talk to Leah.

She hurried to her car. She had driven to the hospital so many times in the past twenty-four hours that she was on autopilot.

The clerk was reluctant to let her into the ICU, so Kate called the surgeon. Dr. Kapur was none too happy to be paged, but when Kate explained that she needed access to Leah due to a public safety threat, she was allowed in.

She strode down the hushed corridor, feeling as if she had stepped into a twilight zone where death and life were pitched in eternal battle.

But this time, the battlefield wasn’t simply the ailing bodies of the ICU patients.

Chapter 52

Chapter 52

3:20 a.m.

Harry strode into his father’s hospital room, the computer cord in his pocket thudding against his thigh. “Dad,” he murmured.

There was no reaction to Harry’s voice. His father’s eyes remained closed, his mouth slightly agape. “They are trying to drug me, Harry.”

A nurse hurried in behind Harry.

He spun around. “What the hell have you done to my father?” The rage and pain that had been in his chest threatened to erupt.

The nurse gave Harry a steady look.

Cool down, Harry. But he was furious at himself for dismissing his father’s concerns as mere ranting, at the hospital for ignoring his father’s pleading. “Did you sedate him against his wishes?”

The nurse shifted on his feet. “Mr. Owen, your father was a danger to himself and to others.”

“What do you mean? He’s not a danger to others any more. He isn’t armed.”

“Your father assaulted me,” the nurse said, his tone calm.

“What?” Oh, Dad.

“We had no choice but to sedate him after that. He also attempted to leave his bed. He was doing more damage to his leg.”

The weight that had been in Harry’s chest suddenly became a tightness. He knew why his father had struck out. He had felt trapped.

He had called Harry to advocate for him, while he lay helpless and bereaved in a hospital bed—and Harry had refused to come.

Harry collapsed into the chair by his father’s bed. “Dad, I’m sorry,” he whispered.