“No! I swear that isn’t what happened!”

“Then tell me Clarence,” Freddie G said, leaning in very close. “How did he know where to find our hideout?”

“I… he… He said that—”

Freddie G had finally had enough. He rose, slamming his foot down on Clarence’s stomach. The wind was forced from the young man’s lungs and Clarence was sent into a couching fit, trying not to suffocate on the spittle catching in the back of his mouth.

Chloe watched on in horror. She knew this was bad, and that these thugs were serious and were most likely lying about letting the hostages go. Chloe regretted dropping her cell phone in the confusion when the gangsters first took over. If only she had some way to contact Richard, he could come and save everyone. As it was, she could only pray that he would get here in time.

“Boss!” one of the gangsters cried out, charging down the hall. “The cops are here! They have us surrounded!”

“Completely?” Freddie G asked. “Damn. There goes our escape plan. And here I had hoped to leave without any hassle.” The gang leader strode through the crowd, looking at the frightened faces and crying patients. He stopped finally at a surgeon in green scrubs, who had been forced to leave surgery when the gang busted in and pulled him away at gunpoint. His patient was left on the table and was probably dead by now from a collapsed lung. The surgeon was on the verge of tears already.

“You,” Freddie G said. “This hospital has a silent alarm system that signals the police, doesn’t it?”

“Um… Y-yes,” the surgeon said.

“Were you the one who hit the alarm?”

“No!” the surgeon begged. “No, it wasn’t me! I was—”

The surgeon would have pleaded his case, but suddenly found it difficult to talk with a gun shoved in his mouth all the way to the trigger guard. Freddie G held the surgeon by the hair to keep him still, and just grinned down at the cowering doctor.

“I don’t believe you,” Freddie G said, pulling the trigger.

The crowd screamed, hugging the ground for safety as the rest of the gang let off several more rounds above them. Blood from the fallen surgeon spattered all over them, coating them in brain matter as the floor was given a new red coat.

Chloe sat, terrified. That man was one of the most dedicated surgeons she had ever met. His name was Dave Penn, with a wife and two kids. She thought back to the times she worked with him. He had been so full of life that morning that seeing him dead next to her didn’t seem real. She blinked several times, sure that the image would go away, but every time she opened her eyes, Dave was still dead, with more blood pouring out of the back of his head.