Officer Derek Cobb was taking his time, casually rummaging through the center console of Matthew's Mercedes, oblivious to the catastrophic chain of events he had just set into motion. Officer Lawson, however, was not oblivious. The rookie had retreated to the front seat of the cruiser to escape the downpour. Shivering, Lawson booted up the mobile data terminal, MDT, mounted to the dashboard. He typed in the license plate of the gray Mercedes.
The screen blinked, loading the registration data. Owner: Ryan Matthew J. Vehicle 2024. MercedesBenz S-Class. Status clear.
No warrants, no record. Occupation code, medical professional, Brighton Memorial Hospital. Lawson stared at the glowing green text. A cold knot formed in his stomach, completely unrelated to the freezing rain. The man they had just manhandled, handcuffed, and thrown into the cage, was exactly who he claimed to be.
But it was the second piece of the puzzle that made the rookie's blood run entirely cold. "The patient is Leo Hayes. Does that name mean anything to you?" Lawson's hands began to shake as he hovered over the police dispatch keyboard. He didn't need to type it in.
He knew who Leo Hayes was. Every cop in the city knew who Leo Hayes was. Last month, the entire department had participated in a charity blood drive for the police commissioner's critically ill 14-year-old son. Before Lawson could even process the magnitude of the mistake, the cruiser's radio cracked to life. The dispatcher's voice cutting through the static with an unprecedented edge of panic.
All units in the Oakcliffe and West End sectors be advised. We have a code three emergency request from Commissioner Richard Hayes. Brighton Memorial is reporting that Chief Surgeon Matthew Ryan is missing on route to a critical transplant surgery. His cell phone was pinged near the Oakcliff Estates perimeter before going dark. Any unit in the area, locate this vehicle immediately.
I repeat, this is a direct order from the commissioner. Lawson didn't wait for the dispatcher to finish. He threw the cruiser door open, lunging out into the torrential rain, slipping on the wet asphalt as he scrambled toward the Mercedes. "Cobb, Cobb, stop!" Lawson screamed, grabbing his senior partner by the shoulder and practically dragging him out of the driver's seat of Matthew's car.
"What the hell is your problem, Lawson?" Cobb snarled, wiping rain from his face. "I think I found a stash compartment under the—" "Shut up. Shut up and listen to me," Lawson yelled, his voice cracking with sheer panic. "The car is registered to him.
He is Dr. Ryan, and the kid he was talking about—the kid waiting for the heart—it's Leo Hayes, Cobb. The commissioner's son." Cobb froze. The aggressive, arrogant sneer melted off his face, replaced instantly by the pale, hollow look of a man who realized he had just stepped onto a landmine. "No, no, that's impossible.