Chapter 6 - Twenty-Four Hours
The specialist survived.
The aircraft had been empty.
A bomb had detonated during a maintenance inspection before the doctor arrived.
A warning.
Dominic knew.
Adrian looked at the clock.
Twenty-three hours remained before the date Dr. Mercer had written.
But medical science did not obey handwritten deadlines perfectly.
Grant admitted that immediately.
“The twenty-four-month line isn’t a switch.”
“Then why write it?”
“Scar tissue progression. Probability declines.”
“How quickly?”
“We don’t know.”
Adrian hated those words.
Emma stood beside the window.
“You have another surgeon?”
Grant nodded.
“One.”
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
Adrian laughed once.
“Of course.”
Dr. Hannah Levin arrived at the estate two hours later under armed escort.
She reviewed the scans.
She reviewed Grant’s account.
Then she examined Adrian.
Needles.
Reflex testing.
Electrical stimulation.
Adrian hated all of it.
Emma remained outside because he asked her to.
Not because he was embarrassed by his body.
He told himself that.
The truth was worse.
He could not tolerate seeing hope on her face.
After an hour Levin sat across from him.
“I believe surgery is reasonable.”
“Reasonable.”
“Yes.”
“Chance of walking?”
“I won’t give you fake numbers.”
“Chance of improvement?”
“Meaningful.”
“What does meaningful mean?”
“Potentially stronger trunk control. Possible return of some sensation. Possible voluntary movement below the injury.”
“Walking?”
“Possible.”
He stared at her.
“Everyone loves that word.”
Levin did not flinch.
“Because medicine is not a contract.”
Adrian respected her immediately.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Emma entered after Levin left.
“Well?”
“I’m doing it.”
She froze.
Then nodded.
“That’s good.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Look happy.”
Emma frowned.
“I am happy.”
“That’s the problem.”
She walked closer.
“Why?”
“Because if it fails, you’ll look disappointed.”
Emma stared.
“Adrian.”
“I don’t want that.”
“Then don’t look at me.”
He almost smiled.
She crouched.
“If it fails, I’ll still be there.”
“That’s worse.”
“Why?”
“Because then you’ll pity me.”
Emma’s face changed.
She took his hand.
“No.”
He looked at their joined hands.
“I knew you in this chair.”
“Yes.”
“I met you when you couldn’t walk.”
“Yes.”
“You were already impossible before anyone mentioned surgery.”
His eyes lifted.
Emma squeezed his hand.
“You think I’m waiting for some different version of you?”
He said nothing.
“I’m not.”
His voice was low.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Emma’s breath caught.
The space between them changed.
She leaned closer.
“Maybe for you to stop pretending you don’t know.”
Adrian touched her face.
Slowly.
Giving her time to move away.
She didn’t.
He kissed her.
Not desperate.
Not dramatic.
Quiet.
Careful.
The first kiss surprised him with how ordinary it felt.
That was the miracle.
For two years, everything involving his body had felt medical.
Transfers.
Pain.
Medication.
Examinations.
Physical therapy.
Now Emma’s hand rested against his jaw, and none of it mattered.
When they separated, she whispered, “You’re still annoying.”
“Good.”
“I was worried surgery might cure that.”
He laughed.
Then Roman entered without knocking.
Adrian closed his eyes.
Roman stopped.
“I can leave.”
“Too late.”
Emma stood.
Roman almost smiled.
“Dominic contacted us.”
Adrian became cold again.
“How?”
“Video.”
They went to the office.
Dominic appeared on screen.
Behind him stood Thomas Bennett.
Emma’s father.
Alive.
Tied to a chair.
Emma covered her mouth.
Dominic smiled.
“Adrian, you have a choice.”
Adrian leaned toward the screen.
“You’re running out of choices yourself.”
“Perhaps.”
Dominic held up a remote detonator.
“Come to the old Vale clinic.”
Grant went pale.
“What clinic?”
Dominic continued.
“The place where your first surgery should have happened.”
Adrian understood.
His father had owned a private medical center decades earlier.
Closed after his death.
Dominic had planned everything around that location.
“Come before midnight,” Dominic said. “Or Thomas dies.”
Emma stepped forward.
“No.”
Dominic saw her through the camera.
“Hello, Emma.”
Her face hardened.
“You threatened a sixteen-year-old girl because you were afraid of her father.”
Dominic smiled.
“I survived.”
“For now.”
The video ended.
Adrian looked at the clock.
His surgery was scheduled in six hours.
The old clinic was ninety minutes away.
Emma said, “You’re not going.”
Adrian looked at her.
She repeated it.
“No.”
He almost smiled.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You finally started giving orders.”
“This one matters.”
“My answer is still no.”
“You miss the surgery window.”
“I may.”
“You risk everything.”
“He’s your father.”
Emma’s eyes filled.
“He made his choice eleven years ago.”
“So did you.”
“What?”
“You stayed.”
She stared at him.
“You could have left after the warehouse. You stayed.”
Adrian rolled closer.
“I’m not letting you lose him again because I wanted a chance to move my legs.”
Emma started crying.
Not loudly.
She covered her face.
Adrian touched her hand.
“Don’t.”
“You hate crying.”
“I hate fake crying.”
She laughed through tears.
“That’s a ridiculous distinction.”
“I have many.”
Roman organized the rescue.
This time, police were involved.
Federal agents too.
Dominic’s conspiracy had crossed enough lines to attract people with badges and grudges.
The old clinic looked abandoned.
But thermal imaging showed eight men inside.
Adrian entered through the loading level.
Emma remained with Roman.
For exactly seven minutes.
Then she disappeared from the command room.
Roman noticed too late.
“Where is Emma?”
No answer.
Adrian swore.
He reached the second floor.
Thomas was there.
Untied.
Alone.
Adrian stopped.
“Where’s Dominic?”
Thomas looked terrified.
“He took Emma.”
Adrian’s blood ran cold.
“She was outside.”
“He had someone on your team.”
Adrian radioed Roman.
“Lock everyone down.”
Static.
Then Emma’s voice came through.
“Adrian?”
He gripped the radio.
“Where are you?”
“Third floor.”
“Stay there.”
“I can’t.”
“Emma.”
“He has a bomb.”
Adrian looked upward.
“Where?”
“Operating room.”
Grant’s voice came through another channel.
“That room connects to the medical gas system.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“If it detonates?”
“Half the building goes.”
Roman shouted through the radio.
“Evacuate.”
Adrian turned toward the elevator.
Dead.
He looked at the stairwell.
Three floors.
Roman appeared at the bottom.
“I’ll carry you.”
Adrian nodded.
No hesitation now.
Roman lifted him.
A guard carried the chair.
They climbed.
Every second mattered.
Third floor.
Emma stood near the operating room.
Dominic held a gun against her.
A detonator in the other hand.
“Stop.”
Roman stopped.
Adrian’s chair was placed down.
He looked at Dominic.
“Let her go.”
Dominic smiled.
“You always cared too much.”
“You taught me not to.”
“I failed.”
“Yes.”
Dominic pressed the gun harder against Emma.
“Sign control of the organization to me.”
Adrian laughed.
“There is no organization.”
Dominic frowned.
Adrian continued.
“I dissolved the illegal operations this afternoon.”
Roman looked surprised.
Even Emma did.
“Everything criminal is gone. Accounts frozen. Warehouses transferred to legitimate companies. Records delivered to federal prosecutors.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
“You destroyed your father’s empire.”
Adrian shook his head.
“I ended yours.”
Dominic screamed and fired.
Roman fired simultaneously.
Emma dropped.
Adrian saw Dominic fall.
The detonator hit the floor.
Its button depressed.
A red timer appeared.
00:30.
Roman ran.
Emma rushed toward Adrian.
“Go!”
The alarm screamed.
00:22.
Smoke began filling the corridor.
Roman grabbed Adrian’s chair.
Adrian shouted, “Thomas!”
“Agents have him!”
They raced toward the stairwell.
00:15.
No elevator.
No ramp.
Adrian looked at Roman.
“Throw me.”
Emma stared.
“What?”
Adrian unlocked the chair.
“Throw me down the landing.”
“That’s insane.”
“Ten seconds.”
Roman lifted him.
Emma grabbed the wheelchair.
They descended in chaos.
The explosion shook the building as they reached the second floor.
Fire roared behind them.
Roman fell.
Emma screamed.
Adrian struck the landing.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
Then something else.
Something impossible.
A flash beneath his waist.
He froze.
Emma grabbed him.
“Adrian!”
He looked at his right leg.
His foot had moved.
Barely.
But it had moved.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“My foot.”
She stared.
Another explosion thundered above them.
Roman shouted.
“MOVE!”
They escaped thirty seconds before part of the clinic collapsed.
Ambulances waited.
Police.
Federal agents.
Thomas survived.
Roman survived.
Emma survived.
Dominic did not.
Adrian lay on a stretcher.
Dr. Levin examined him.
“Can you feel this?”
She touched his ankle.
Nothing.
Then calf.
Nothing.
Then knee.
A faint spark.
Adrian inhaled sharply.
“Yes.”
Levin looked at him.
“Surgery. Now.”
At the hospital, Emma held his hand until staff took him toward the operating room.
Adrian looked at her.
“If this goes wrong—”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“No speeches.”
He almost smiled.
She leaned down and kissed him.
“Come back.”
The operating doors closed.
Nine hours later, Emma woke in the waiting room.
Dr. Levin was standing in front of her.
Her surgical mask was gone.
Her expression gave nothing away.
Emma stood.
“How is he?”
Levin looked toward the recovery wing.
“The surgery is over.”
She paused.
“And Adrian woke up five minutes ago.”
Emma held her breath.
May you like
Levin continued.
“He asked us to test his legs.”
