"You can't keep doing that," Arthur scolded him as he sat by the boy’s bedside, inexplicably furious. "You almost died for a dog!"
"He was hurting," Elian whispered weakly. "If I can stop the hurting, I have to."
"No, you don't!" Arthur yelled, slamming his fist on the nightstand. "That's not how the world works, kid! The world is full of pain. You can't fix it all. If you try, it will kill you!"
"I know," Elian said, giving Arthur a sad smile. "But isn't that better than watching people suffer and doing nothing? You have all the money in the world, Mr. Sterling. You could have stopped a lot of hurting. But you chose to cause it."
The words stung worse than any physical blow. Arthur stood up, unable to look the boy in the eye, and stormed out of the room. He went to his study and poured himself a massive glass of scotch. He drank it down, but the alcohol couldn't numb the crushing weight of guilt that was rapidly expanding in his chest.
Elian had taken away his paralysis, but in doing so, he had awakened Arthur’s conscience. A conscience that had been dormant for forty years. Arthur realized that the boy’s true miracle wasn't healing flesh and bone. It was healing morality.
But the outside world didn't care about morality. They only cared about power. And they had figured out Arthur's secret.
Chapter 5: The Siege
The breach happened at 3:00 AM on a rain-swept Thursday.
Arthur was awakened by the blaring sirens of his estate’s perimeter security system. The power to the mansion was suddenly cut, plunging the massive house into darkness, save for the flashing red emergency strobes.
Vance kicked open Arthur’s bedroom door, holding a suppressed submachine gun. "Sir! We are under attack. Professional strike team. Heavily armed. They breached the south wall."
"Who are they?" Arthur demanded, throwing off his silk sheets and grabbing a pistol from his nightstand.
"Unknown mercenaries, sir. But they aren't here to assassinate you. They are using non-lethal flashbangs and gas on the outer guards. They are looking for someone."
"Elian," Arthur realized, his blood running cold.
The rumors had spread too far. Someone powerful—a rival corporation, a foreign government, or a dying billionaire desperate for a miracle—had connected the dots between Arthur's sudden recovery and the mysterious boy living in his house. They didn't want Arthur. They wanted the miracle worker.
"Get to the boy's room. Now!" Arthur yelled.
Arthur sprinted down the hallway, marveling for a split second at the speed and strength of his own legs. He reached Elian’s room just as the heavy oak door was kicked in from the outside balcony. Two men in black tactical gear and night-vision goggles stepped into the room. One of them held a specialized net gun; the other carried a syringe of heavy sedatives.
Elian was sitting up in bed, looking terrified.
"Hey!" Arthur roared.
The mercenaries turned. Arthur didn't hesitate. The man who had spent his entire life paying other people to do his dirty work raised his pistol and fired. He hit the first mercenary in the shoulder, dropping him. Vance arrived a second later, laying down suppressing fire that forced the second mercenary to dive out the window and retreat.
Arthur ran to the bed and scooped Elian into his arms. The boy was trembling.
"I've got you," Arthur said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I won't let them take you."
"Sir, we need to get to the panic room," Vance ordered, covering the hallway. "The perimeter is collapsing. There are at least twenty of them."
Arthur carried Elian through the dark, sprawling corridors of the mansion. Gunfire echoed from the lower levels as Arthur’s security team engaged the invaders. The smell of cordite and smoke filled the air.
They reached the hidden steel door of the panic room located behind a bookshelf in the library. As Vance entered the code, a mercenary stepped out from behind a velvet curtain and fired a burst from his rifle.
Vance took a bullet to the thigh and went down hard. Arthur spun around, putting his body between the mercenary and Elian, and returned fire, taking the man out. But as Arthur turned back, he saw Vance bleeding out rapidly on the floor. An arterial bleed. The security chief was pale, gasping for air.