Trapped By The President's Dangerous Secret

Hayes swiftly swept the photos and the dossier back into the envelope, shoved it into the drawer, and locked it.

He unlocked the door.

Cromwell burst into the room.

The hospital CEO was sweating profusely, his expensive silk tie pulled loose.

He grabbed Ana by the upper arm, his fingers digging into her flesh.

"They're here."

Ana tried to yank her arm away, wincing in pain. "Who is here?"

Cromwell swallowed hard, his eyes wide with fear.

"The White House motorcade. They are parked at the loading dock."

Ana gasped.

Her mind instantly jumped to the worst conclusion. The President had sent his men to arrest her for knowing too much.

"The Oval Office sent direct orders," Cromwell panted. "You are to report to the White House immediately."

Ana backed away, hitting the edge of the desk.

"No. I'm not going."

Hayes stepped up beside her. He gripped her shoulder, his fingers pressing hard into her collarbone.

He leaned close to her ear.

"If you refuse, you bring the wrath of the federal government down on this hospital. And when the board gets angry, budgets get reassessed. I'd hate to see your mother's 'non-essential' experimental treatments cut from the financial aid program to appease them. Do you understand me, Ana?"

Ana bit her lower lip so hard it bled.

The metallic taste of defeat filled her mouth.

She was trapped under the crushing weight of power and poverty.

Cromwell practically dragged her out of the office.

They rushed down the sterile, fluorescent-lit service corridors to the back of the hospital.

Ana pushed through the heavy metal exit doors.

Three massive, black, bulletproof Chevrolet Suburbans idled in the dark alleyway.

Agents in dark suits and sunglasses stood by the vehicles, creating an impenetrable perimeter.

Ana recognized the lead agent standing by the middle SUV.

It was the same man who had pointed a gun at her head in the ER.

He pulled open the heavy rear door of the Suburban and gestured for her to get in.

Ana looked back over her shoulder.

Hayes stood in the doorway, giving her a slow, encouraging nod.

She took a deep breath, her chest tight with dread, and climbed into the back seat.

The door slammed shut behind her, sealing her inside.

The interior of the SUV was pitch black.

Sitting across from her was a woman with sharp features and cold eyes.

"I'm Agent C. J. Stone," she said.

The motorcade accelerated smoothly, merging into the D. C. traffic.

C. J. handed Ana a thick stack of papers.

"Sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement."

Ana squinted in the dark. "I can't read this. I need to see what I'm signing."

C. J. leaned forward, her voice devoid of warmth.

"If you don't sign it right now, this vehicle will reroute to an FBI interrogation facility."

Ana's hands shook as she took the pen and scribbled her name on the last page.

C. J. snatched the papers back.

She pulled out a metal detector wand and ran it aggressively over Ana's body, followed by a harsh, invasive pat-down.

Ana's cheeks burned with humiliation, but she kept her mouth shut.

She looked out the tinted window.

The illuminated obelisk of the Washington Monument flashed by.

The motorcade turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue.

The imposing white columns of the White House loomed in the night.

The gates opened, and the vehicles pulled up to the West Wing.

Ana's heart hammered against her ribs.