Chapter 6 - THE INFORMANT IN THE BASEMENT
The vehicle sped through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago before dawn, heading not toward a hospital or a mansion, but toward an industrial laundry facility located in the city's old warehouse district. The windows of the SUV were tinted dark, shutting out the grey morning light.
Sofia sat in the back seat beside Dante, watching the streetlamps blur past. "Why here?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Because hospitals keep electronic logs that smart doctors like Croft can alter or wipe remotely," Dante explained, his eyes fixed straight ahead, arms crossed over his chest. "But paper receipts, physical shipping manifests, and old-school administrative archives from the night shift cleaning crews don't live on the cloud. They live in the basement of places where people don't ask questions."
The SUV rolled to a stop beside a rusted metal loading dock. One of Dante's guards hopped out, opening the rear door. They stepped into a vast, humid room filled with towering industrial washing machines and the heavy smell of detergent and steam.
Waiting for them near a stack of canvas laundry carts was an older man with graying hair tied back in a ponytail and oil-stained fingers—Silvio, a former hospital administrator who had been struck off the medical registry years ago for covering up illegal drug trials, and who now owed Dante his life and livelihood.
"Marchetti," Silvio rasped, wiping his hands on a rag. "You look like a man who just found out his entire life is a lie. Who's the lady?"
"She's the only reason my son isn't going to be buried under a fake name next week," Dante said bluntly, stepping up to Silvio's metal desk. "I need the physical shift logs and ambulance dispatch records from Northwestern Mercy Hospital on November 14th between 11 p.m. and 3 a.m. Every single nurse, orderly, and paramedic on duty."
Silvio whistled softly through his teeth. "That's high-security data, Dante. The board of trustees encrypts those archives."
"Dr. Croft is running an illicit infant swap ring out of the NICU," Sofia interjected, stepping forward into the light of the desk lamp. Her voice carried absolute conviction. "A healthy newborn was taken, and a terminally ill infant from an unclaimed ward was substituted in his place. If you don't help us pull those records, another innocent child dies today."
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Silvio looked from Sofia to Dante, reading the grim, unyielding expression on the mob boss's face. He sighed, turning toward a battered desktop computer that looked like it belonged in a museum exhibit.
"Alright," Silvio muttered, clicking a mouse. "Let's see who was swiping keycards in the basement archives while everyone was focused on the front entrance trauma bay."
