Chapter 8 - The Web of Deceit
Z
"Back away from the table, Maya," Victoria ordered, her voice cold and level as she leveled the taser at my chest. The two men behind her stepped into the small room, effectively blocking the only exit.
I slowly raised my hands, my heart beating so hard I could hear it pounding in my ears. "You were in on this too. Nathan's high-powered attorney... you weren't protecting him. You were protecting my father."
"I work for the board of Vance Medical Technologies," Victoria corrected, stepping closer and using her gloved hand to sweep the USB drive, the leather journal, and the manila folder into a leather tote bag. "Your father owned fifty-one percent of the shell company, yes, but the board owns the patent. That synthetic gene marker inside your kidney is worth billions of dollars in pharmaceutical rights. If the FDA discovers that the foundation of our technology was built on an illegal, unapproved human trial that ruined a young girl's renal system, the company goes under, and everyone goes to prison."
"You poisoned me," I whispered, the crushing realization washing over me like ice water. "Eight years ago, after the car accident... my father didn't just take me to the hospital. He let your team administer an untested trial on me."
"Your father was desperate, Maya," Victoria said, a sliver of dark mockery in her tone. "The hit-and-run caused minor trauma to your abdomen, but your father was broke. Vance offered him a deal: fund his biotech startup, give him equity, and use you as Subject Zero to test the organ-regeneration serum. It worked for seven years. But synthetic treatments decay. Your kidneys didn't fail naturally—the serum degraded, turning your own tissue toxic."
"And Nathan?" I demanded, tears of rage brimming in my eyes. "Was he part of the trial too?"
"Nathan was the driver who hit you," Victoria said, zipping her bag shut. "He was nineteen, scared, and stupid. When he realized what Arthur had done to you using his company's money, the guilt consumed him. He dedicated his life to fixing it. He volunteered his kidney not just to save your life, but because his organ was the only one modified to host the counter-enzyme that kept you from dying from the serum toxicity. He sacrificed his organ—and ultimately his health—to keep you alive."
She looked at me with a strange, chilling pity.
"Nathan loved you, Maya. In his own sick, twisted, pathetic way, he loved you. He married you to gain legal authority over your medical records, ensuring that no independent pathologist would ever biopsy that kidney and discover the synthetic markers. He was protecting you—and his partner, your father."
"And Evelyn?" I asked, trying to stall for time, looking for anything I could use as a weapon in the cramped vault.
"Evelyn was a wildcard," Victoria sneered. "A greedy ex-wife who smelled money and showed up to claim the corpse. But she’s being taken care of as we speak. A tidy legal settlement will buy her silence."
Victoria nodded to the two men standing beside her. "Take her. We have a private clinic waiting in Vancouver. Mrs. Vance needs a... comprehensive medical evaluation. We can't risk her talking to the authorities, nor can we risk her dying before we extract the biological data from that organ."
Before the men could grab my arms, I acted on pure instinct. I grabbed the heavy metallic deposit box from the table and swung it with all the force left in my body.
The heavy metal struck the first man directly across the jaw with a sickening crunch. He staggered backward, knocking into Victoria. The taser discharged into the wall with a loud, electric crack.
I didn't wait to see the damage. I lunged forward, shoving the second man into the steel doorframe, and bolted out of the vault into the bank's basement hallway.
"Stop her!" Victoria roared behind me.
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my lungs burning, my boots slapping against the polished marble floor of the bank corridor. I burst through the security doors into the main lobby, screaming at the top of my lungs: "Call the police! Fire! Help!"
The bank patrons and tellers froze in panic. The chaos gave me just enough cover. I shoved through the heavy glass entrance doors and burst onto the crowded Seattle street, disappearing into the lunchtime pedestrian traffic.
I ran until my side burned with a agonizing, sharp pain—a terrifying reminder of the fragile organ inside me. I ducked into an alleyway, panting heavily, pressing my back against the cold brick wall.
I pulled my phone from my coat pocket. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely type.
I couldn't call my mother. I couldn't call the police—not yet, not without knowing who else Vance Medical had bought off.
I dialed the only number left in my phone that I hadn't tried in days. The hospital ICU direct desk.
"St. Jude's ICU, Nurse's station," a voice answered.
"This is Maya Vance," I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "I need an update on Nathaniel Vance. Room 402."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"Mrs. Vance?" the nurse's voice sounded terrified, lowered to a hushed whisper. "Where are you? You need to get away."
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"What? What happened?"
"Nathaniel Vance woke up thirty minutes ago," the nurse whispered frantically. "The stroke... it wasn't fatal. It was a localized ischemic event. He’s conscious, Maya. But your father... your father is in his room right now. He just pulled the legal proxy papers. They are preparing to transfer Nathan to a private facility in Canada."
