Chapter 2 - The Cast Hadn't Been Treating Luca’s Injury—It Had Been Hiding a Surgical Implant, and the Gunman Outside the ER Knew Exactly Where We WereThe first gunshot sent everyone in Trauma Room Two to the floor.
The second shattered the glass panel beside the door.
Luca screamed.
I threw myself over him.
Vincent drew a weapon so quickly I barely saw it.
His security team moved.
Doctors ducked behind equipment.
Nurses screamed.
Then the emergency lights came on.
Red.
Flashing.
Someone shouted from the hallway.
“East entrance!”
Another voice:
“Two shooters!”
Vincent looked at me.
“Can you move him?”
“His blood pressure just crashed.”
“I need my son out of here.”
“You need to keep him alive.”
He stared at me for half a second.
Then nodded.
“Do whatever you need.”
The shooting stopped.
Security dragged the attackers away from the ER.
Nobody died.
But Luca had gone unconscious.
His blood pressure was dangerously low.
I looked at the surgical wound.
The implanted capsule was still there.
“Get me vascular surgery.”
Marcus nodded.
“Already paged.”
I turned toward Mrs. Moretti.
“Why was this implanted?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then who does?”
She looked toward Vincent.
His jaw tightened.
“My father used to run private medical clinics.”
I stared.
“For what?”
“Black-market medical research.”
“Research on children?”
He didn't answer.
The wife did.
“Yes.”
Vincent turned toward her.
She flinched.
“You knew?”
“For years.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father threatened to kill Luca.”
Vincent looked devastated.
“My father is dead.”
“He told me that before Luca was born.”
The room went silent again.
I looked at the capsule.
“What's it for?”
Vincent didn't know.
His wife did.
“It transmits biological data.”
I stared.
“What kind?”
“Heart rate. Temperature. Blood chemistry. Drug reactions.”
My stomach turned.
“Someone was monitoring him.”
She nodded.
“Every day.”
“For four weeks?”
“Longer.”
“How long?”
She swallowed.
“Since birth.”
I looked at Luca.
“Why?”
“No one would tell me.”
“Who implanted it?”
She whispered:
“Dr. Adrian Moretti.”
Vincent stared.
“My father's private physician.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But the wife continued.
“He wasn't just a doctor.”
“What was he?”
“A researcher.”
“Researching what?”
She looked toward Luca.
“People like him.”
The vascular surgeon arrived.
We rushed Luca into the operating room.
Before we moved him, I looked at Vincent.
“There's something you need to understand.”
He listened.
“If this device has been inside him since birth, removing it may tell us who put it there. But it could also be connected to whatever has been causing the infection.”
“Then remove it.”
“I will.”
He nodded.
Then I looked at him.
“Your wife says your father is alive.”
His jaw tightened.
“If that's true, I'll find him.”
I believed him.
He was a terrifying man.
But when he looked at Luca, he was simply a father.
The surgery lasted three hours.
We removed dead tissue.
Drained the infection.
Extracted the capsule.
Luca needed a vascular graft.
He survived.
Barely.
While he was in recovery, I examined the device.
It was more sophisticated than I expected.
A unique serial number was engraved into the casing.
I entered it into the medical device registry.
Nothing.
Then I searched private patent databases.
Still nothing.
Marcus found me.
“Sarah.”
I turned.
“You need to see this.”
He handed me a tablet.
Security footage.
Someone had entered the hospital using a staff badge.
The person had gone directly toward Trauma Room Two.
Then toward the operating room.
But the face was hidden.
“Can we identify the badge?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“It's registered to Dr. Adrian Moretti.”
I looked up.
“The father?”
“The one who is supposed to be dead?”
He nodded.
I stared at the screen.
A man who had officially died twelve years ago had entered my hospital using his own credentials.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice spoke.
“Doctor Jenkins.”
“Yes?”
“Remove the device.”
“We already did.”
Silence.
Then:
“Then you'll need to decide whether you want your patient to live.”
I froze.
“What does that mean?”
“You shouldn't have touched what wasn't yours.”
The call ended.
I looked at the device.
Then at Luca through the glass.
And I realized someone wasn't simply trying to hide what was under his cast.
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They had built an entire surveillance system around that child.
And now I had removed the one piece they couldn't replace.
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