Chapter 10 - The Final Operation
Brandon Whitmore thought he was being clever.
He received an anonymous text message claiming to have coordinates for a private warehouse where Margaret was being hidden before she left the country.
Armed with his handgun, Brandon drove to the industrial district by the docks.
The warehouse was dark and silent. The smell of salt water and old rust hung heavy in the air.
He slipped through the side door, his gun raised, his heart pounding with twisted anticipation.
"Margaret!" he called out into the gloom. "It's over! Come out and I won't hurt the boy!"
Suddenly, blinding floodlights snapped on.
Brandon shielded his eyes, stumbling backward.
When his vision cleared, he realized he wasn't in a standard warehouse.
The center of the room had been meticulously set up to resemble a surgical theater. There was a metal operating table, an array of sharp surgical tools laid out on a sterile blue cloth, and an IV drip stand.
Sitting in a leather chair just outside the circle of light was Austin Fontaine.
Margaret was nowhere to be seen.
"Welcome, Doctor," Austin said, crossing his legs.
Brandon raised his gun, aiming it at Austin's chest. "Where is she?!"
"She is safe. Which is more than I can say for you."
Before Brandon could pull the trigger, a heavy blow struck the back of his knees. He collapsed, the gun skittering across the concrete floor.
Two of Austin's men hoisted Brandon up and slammed him onto the cold metal operating table, strapping his wrists and ankles down with heavy leather belts.
Brandon thrashed violently, screaming.
"Let me go! You can't do this! I'm a respected surgeon!"
Austin stood up and slowly walked to the tray of surgical tools. He picked up a scalpel, testing the blade against his thumb.
"You see, Dr. Whitmore," Austin said softly, standing over him. "I did a lot of research on you. You're very proud of your hands. You insured them for ten million dollars."
Brandon's eyes widened in sheer terror as Austin traced the blunt end of the scalpel across Brandon's knuckles.
"Please," Brandon begged, tears streaming down his face. "Please, I'll sign the divorce papers. I'll give her everything. Just don't ruin my hands."
Austin leaned in close, his eyes completely devoid of mercy.
"You used these hands to break my mother's nurse. You used them to kill her mother. You don't deserve them."
Austin raised the scalpel.
Brandon screamed.
Austin slammed the handle of the scalpel down, breaking Brandon's index finger with a sickening crack.
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"That's for Margaret's jaw," Austin whispered.
He didn't cut him. He simply made sure Brandon Whitmore would never hold a scalpel again.
