By six in the morning, everyone outside Room 814 was already talking about Adrian Cole as though he belonged to yesterday.

The words hung in the air like a heavy frost.

The accident wasn't an accident.

Emily felt her breath catch in her throat. She looked toward the glass window. Michael Vance was still standing in the hallway, conversing with two men in expensive coats who had just arrived from the elevator.

"Don't say anything more right now, Adrian," Emily whispered back urgently, her hand covering his where it gripped her sleeve. "You need to save your strength. The sedation is still clearing your system."

Adrian’s head gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. His grip loosened, his hand falling back to the mattress as exhaustion claimed him once more. Within minutes, his breathing deepened into a true, restorative sleep.

Emily stepped out of the room to document the extubation in the computer terminal at the central nursing station. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, entering the vitals, the successful tube removal, and his level of consciousness.

"He's actually awake?" Rachel asked, rolling her medical cart over. "Word is spreading down to administration. The hospital director is already receiving calls from the Mayor's office."

"He's awake and stable," Emily replied, keeping her voice low. "Where is Dr. Bennett?"

"In the physician lounge, writing up the progress notes."

As Emily clicked 'Save' on the electronic chart, a strange pop-up warning flashed red across her screen: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS OVERRIDE — PHARMACY DISPENSARY ORDERS.

Emily frowned. "That's odd."

"What is?" Rachel leaned over to look.

"Adrian Cole’s IV medication profile just refreshed," Emily said, clicking into the system. "Someone just submitted an electronic order for a high-dose IV potassium push and concentrated vecuronium bromide."

Rachel’s eyes widened in horror. "Vecuronium? That's a paralytic agent! He's off the ventilator! If someone gives him a neuromuscular blocker now, he'll stop breathing in two minutes!"

Emily’s blood turned to ice. "Who authorized the order?"

She scanned the digital sign-off line. It read: Dr. T. Bennett — Verbal Order via Telephone.

"Dr. Bennett is in the lounge!" Emily shouted, jumping out of her chair so fast her plastic stool clattered against the floor.

She bolted down the hallway toward Room 814.

As she rounded the corner, she saw a man in grey scrubs—a face she didn't recognize from the morning shift change—carrying a small tray with a pre-filled syringe toward Adrian’s room.

"Hey!" Emily yelled, her voice echoing down the quiet corridor. "Stop right there!"

The man turned, his eyes widening in surprise beneath his surgical mask. He didn't answer. Instead, he shoved past a passing physical therapist and sprinted into Room 814, slamming the heavy door behind him.

"Security!" Emily screamed, sprinting after him.

She threw her shoulder against the glass door, bursting into the room just as the fake nurse reached for the secondary Y-port on Adrian’s main IV line, syringe in hand.

"Get away from him!" Emily yelled, grabbing a heavy metal blood-pressure monitor stand and swinging it with all her strength.

The metal pole slammed into the man's arm, knocking the syringe out of his grip. It skidded across the linoleum floor, shattering against the baseboard and splashing clear, lethal fluid across the floor.

The man swore loudly, turning on Emily with a concealed pocket knife flashing in his right hand. "Out of the way, bitch!"

Before he could step toward Emily, a thick, bruised arm shot out from the hospital bed.

Adrian Cole had sat up.

Despite the agony in his ribs, despite the IV lines tugging at his arms, Adrian grabbed the man by the front of his grey scrubs with terrifying, violent precision. He yanked the assassin down onto the bed, slamming the man’s face directly into the heavy steel side-rail with a sickening CRACK.

The assassin groaned, dropping the knife as blood poured from his broken nose.

By then, two hospital security guards and Michael Vance’s personal bodyguards burst into the room. They tackled the assassin to the floor, pinning his arms behind his back and hauling him toward the hallway.

Emily stood breathless against the wall, the blood pressure stand still clutched in her hands.

In the center of the room, Adrian sat breathing heavily, his hospital gown disheveled, his eyes burning with a dark, primal fury that made every security officer in the room freeze in place.