Chapter 7 - The Parking Garage Encounter
The underground parking garage smelled of exhaust fumes, damp concrete, and stagnant water leaking from overhead pipes. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered erratically, casting long, jittery shadows between the rows of parked sedans and SUVs. I kept my head down, my boots clicking rhythmically against the pavement as I walked toward my old sedan parked near the concrete pillar marked B-12. The man in the dark suit walked a few paces behind me, his footsteps completely silent, acting as a human shield against the cold draft of the garage.
As I reached for the door handle of my car, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, spinning me around with brutal force. I gasped as I slammed back against the cold metal door of my vehicle. Standing right in front of me was Dr. Harrison, his pristine white lab coat unbuttoned, his face twisted into an ugly mask of desperate rage. His eyes were bloodshot, and the alcohol on his breath hit me like a physical wave.
"You arrogant little bitch," Harrison hissed, leaning in so close I could see the sweat beading on his upper lip. "You think you're going to ruin years of work over a few bruises? You fell down the stairs. Everyone in administration knows you're clumsy, unstable, and prone to hallucinations. If you say one more word to anyone, I will ensure your nursing license is revoked in every state from here to the coast."
"Let go of me," I choked out, trying to pry his fingers off my collar.
"You belong to this facility," Harrison snarled, tightening his grip until my breath caught in my chest. "You belong to us."
Before I could swing my arm to strike him, a heavy, gloved hand clamped down on Harrison's wrist with the crushing force of a vise. Dr. Harrison let out a sharp cry of pain as his grip instantly failed, his knees buckling slightly as the man in the dark suit stepped smoothly between us.
"She belongs to no one," the man said softly, his voice dangerously low as he twisted Harrison's arm back just enough to make the doctor whimper. "And you, Doctor, are currently violating federal labor regulations, workplace safety statutes, and three separate injunctions I filed twenty minutes ago."
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Harrison struggled to pull his arm back, his face draining of color as he recognized the man in the dark suit. "You don't understand who funds this hospital. You can't touch me."
"I don't touch people," the man replied, releasing Harrison with a shove that sent the doctor stumbling backward against a concrete pillar. "Marx's laws handle assets like you. And your liquidation has already begun."
