Chapter 8 - The Extraction
Rebecca ignored the collapsing composure of the Whitaker family. She turned back to the hospital bed, unzipping her tactical uniform coat and draping it gently around Lauren's trembling shoulders. The heavy fabric, bearing her mother's rank and scent, wrapped around the girl like a bulletproof shield.
"Can you walk, sweetheart?" Rebecca asked softly.
Lauren wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her gray sweatshirt, looking at the door, then at the stunned faces of her husband and his family. The paralyzing fear that had gripped her for six hours began to dissolve, replaced by the profound, unshakeable security of her mother's presence.
"Yes," Lauren whispered. "I can walk."
Rebecca swung her arm around Lauren's waist, supporting her as her daughter swung her legs off the side of the high hospital bed. Lauren's feet touched the cold floor tile, her body resting heavily against her mother's military frame.
"Stop them!" Celeste commanded, her voice turning shrill as she looked at Evan. "Evan, do something! She's taking your wife!"
Evan took one step forward, but before he could raise a hand, the second tactical silhouette in the doorway moved with effortless speed, stepping into the path and placing a single gloved hand on Evan's chest.
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"Stay right where you are, sir," the agent ordered in a voice that left zero room for negotiation. "Touch her, and you will be placed under federal arrest for obstruction of justice immediately."
Evan stopped cold, his arms dropping to his sides, his face flushed with pathetic defeat.
