The rooms in Ward C had no exterior windows. The steel and brick construction blocked the WiFi signal from the tech startup company that was housed in the old Hilburn supply building that stood fifty feet from the walls of the main Hilburn hospital building. Straus would carefully listen for any noise outside of the only door that led from the “hub” of Ward C to the hallway. After hearing nothing for at least three minutes, he would unlock the door and quietly make his way down the southern hall to a window that faced the old supply building. There, Straus was able to log on to the tech company’s WiFi signal on his iPad, access news streams, check emails, and respond to any that he considered to be “critically important.”
He was certain that no one knew that Ward C was no longer vacant and knew that the only time a visitor would enter the abandoned main hospital building would be if a possible tenant was interested in seeing the available space. Over the years, three of the four buildings of the Hilburn campus were converted. One building was occupied by the tech company, another was converted to a warehouse, and the third was converted to small offices for start-up companies looking for inexpensive office space. While there were many companies interested in the three story main hospital, no tenants had been found. Rumors of the hospital being haunted were well known in the area, and local police had to increase their watches to keep out amateur ghost hunters and teenagers looking for a thrilling night.
Straus didn’t believe in ghosts and was able to easily dismiss the occasional sounds he heard during the night as echoes from the nearby roads or kids, loitering in the parking lot. There were some sounds, however, that gave Straus pause. Sounds that sounded eerily familiar.
His first night back in Hilburn, Straus thought he heard a crackle of electricity coming from the first floor where doctors like Brian Lucietta would perform “therapeutic shock therapy.” Later that night, Straus was certain that he heard the voice of a particularly disturbed patient calling for him. The patient died on the second floor from asphyxiation, though the exact cause was never determined.
Though the sounds startled Straus, he passed them off as his nerves getting the better of him.
“I’ve never read an obituary that claimed ghosts as the cause of death,” he chuckled to himself. “Empty halls distort sounds, and a nervous mind can turn the wind into a blood curling scream.”
It was at the window where Straus read about the two doctors murdered in Chicago. He read about Rinaldo having been killed by “severe blunt force trauma to his skull” and about Zudak being strangled in a motel thirty miles west of Chicago. He also read the details of the murders at his lodge and of the police search for “Doctor William Straus, wanted for questioning.”
There were no emails worth his response and nothing from Brian Lucietta. The only email that he did find interesting enough to be saved and read several times, came from an unknown Gmail account. He assumed that someone, probably Alexander or O’Connell, had accessed the computer in his study at the lodge, had learned his email address and had contacted him. The message was simple, concise and well written;
“Your name still appears on my list. I’d like to remove it, soon.”
Part of his Plan B called for three stops. The first being to visit with Brian Lucietta, to both make Brian aware of the happenings at the lodge and also to instruct him to deny knowledge of Alexander Black. The second was to a grocery store, where, using cash, Straus bought a month’s worth of food, water, and supplies. The final stop he made was to his home on Long Island. There, Straus collected boxes of files, his Smith and Wesson .380, two boxes of tactical bullets, and several changes of clothes. He needed nothing else and felt confident that, if after his food and supplies ran out, he would be able to sneak out to gather more if the situation with Alexander Black had not been resolved.
Straus had thought of nearly everything to include into his Plan B to ensure his safety and protection. The one thing Straus had not planned for was the battery of his iPad running low. He kept a car charger adapter in his BMW that was concealed in one bay of the loading docks two floors below him. If the iPad’s battery died, Straus decided a trip to the loading dock might also give him the opportunity to drive to a nearby hotel, for a shower and to “borrow” a pillow, another missing item from his plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“I have no idea how you got into my office, but I do suggest that you leave immediately.” Brian Lucietta was certainly startled when he walked into his office, turned on the overhead lights, and felt the hard shove that sent him sprawling onto the floor. But Brian didn’t believe in staying startled long. He quickly found his footing, and when he realized that he had no clean path to get out of his office, he stood to confront his unwelcomed guest.
“I will give you five seconds to turn around and walk out of my office before I take action.”
“And what action are you prepared to take?” his guest asked.
“Three, two...”
Brian’s countdown, though short, was made even shorted when he felt the probes dig into his body. He had only enough time to look up in terror before those two small, shiny barbs released an eruption of pain.
The electricity seized his muscles together in a tight, contracted, and painful way. His brain was scrambled with electrical impulses. As he fell to the floor, Brian felt his jaw tightening, clenching, and grinding his teeth together. Had he expected his jaw to clamp shut so tightly, he would have been certain to move his tongue back and away from the crushing power of his teeth. But he had no warning.
The contractions lasted only three seconds, and when they stopped, his pain evaporated. But not the pain of his severed tongue. He felt blood pouring from his tongue, into his mouth, and flowing down his throat. He coughed to move the blood from his airway and out of his mouth. Along with a disturbing amount of blood, his cough also caused a two-inch long strip of his tongue to launch from its home. Brian watched it land inches from the boots standing a few feet from his prone position.