She was hooked up to a portable oxygen monitor, but her pulse was steady.
Strong.
She was alive.
I reached through the rubberized access port, my massive, calloused hand gently touching her miniature arm.
Her tiny fingers automatically curled around my pinky, gripping it with a fierce, instinctual force.
A lump formed in my throat, breaking through the cold armor I had worn all night.
“Eleanor,” I whispered, tears finally blurring my vision.
“You’re safe.
Daddy’s here.”
Viktor stepped up beside me, his tactical radio buzzing softly.
“The infant is stable, Director,” Viktor reported quietly.
“Our chief medical officer, Dr.
Harrison, is arriving via helicopter right now with our private pediatric team.
She will be transferred to our secure facility in Zurich within the hour.
No one outside this room will ever know she survived until you give the command.”
I wiped my eyes, my expression instantly hardening back into hardened steel.
“And the doctor upstairs?”
Viktor asked.
