Page 91 of Ground Truth

Flint’s strategy relied on his knowledge of Hedinger’s methods. Hedinger was an extremely wealthy, powerful, and influential man. Which meant he could hire the best security money could buy. Which he did.

Employing an excellent security staff on a private island was okay. But Hedinger’s combination of ruthless enforcement and top performing security officers could also create a false sense of safety, which wasn’t even remotely okay.

Hedinger’s private island security was no doubt diligent as well as ruthless at first. Infractions of the rules would have been discovered promptly and punishment dealt swiftly. With extreme prejudice.

Hedinger despised thieves. He handled them personally. Punishment was swift, ruthless, and public. He believed in deterrence, not redemption. A thief who dared to steal so much as a piece of fruit lost the hand that dared to rob Hedinger. No exceptions.

Similarly, no citizen was permitted to carry weapons of any kind. Illegal weapons were confiscated and used to inflict bodily harm on the violators.

Over time, the population became aware of Hedinger’s rules and were desperate to avoid his retribution.

Flint believed rebelliousness and bad behavior would have been eradicated among Atabei’s easygoing citizens within the first month.

Which inevitably made Hedinger’s security team cocky and lazy and in no hurry to hunt down what few criminal elements might exist. No need to rush and no desire to.

After all, no one could escape Atabei Island. Only approved persons were allowed to enter or leave.

Agents would discover any infractions and locate the perpetrators all in good time.

If Flint’s assumptions were correct, and he was willing to bet they were, Hedinger’s skeleton crew of agents had developed insufferable hubris.

The agents were highly trained, ruthless, and they believed they had total control of the entire island population’s behavior. Most of the time, they probably did.

Simply put, today they were wrong.

Flint had already proven the folly several times just in the last few hours.

And he wasn’t finished.

He hustled through the back entrance. Like the front, he spied no obvious surveillance. No posted security. No desk for visitor check-in. Nothing.

Flint pulled up the diagram of the hospital’s layout on his phone as he strode deeper into the building. He’d paid handsomely for the diagram, and he hoped it was accurate.

Another truism. A corrupt boss encouraged corrupt personnel. Hedinger was a fool to trust them.

Brand was the obvious example. He was an exceptionally competent surgeon who thought he was God. Hedinger tolerated his ego because his skill and competence increased Hedinger’s wealth and influence.

The relationship was forged and strengthened by uninhibited success. Simply put, neither had any reason to be dissatisfied.

Until now.

Like all despots everywhere, Hedinger was a psycho. That unpredictability could be exploited. If Flint could only get past the effects of that damned concussion.

The Chief of Surgery’s spacious office faced the luxurious courtyard in the wing opposite the operating rooms. Next to the Chief of Surgery’s office was the CEO’s office.

There was a connecting door between them. How cozy.

Flint heard raised voices inside Brand’s office. A man and a woman. Probably Brand and his mistress. Flint paused to listen.

“Whereis my cell phone, Genevieve?” Brand demanded angrily, tossing objects to the floor.

“It’s not my job to inventory your possessions,” she responded with an equal amount of anger. “Did you leave it at my place? You were on a call last night in bed.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Brand demanded.

The crack of a loud slap and then a heavy thump.

Flint suffered another wave of dizziness and nausea and waited briefly until it receded. Then he pulled his gun, opened the door, and stepped inside Brand’s office.

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