The sterile white walls of the operating room pulsed with urgency as machines beeped steadily in the background. JC lay unconscious on the table, his body still, head wrapped in surgical cloth, the aftermath of the crash evident in the swelling and bruises across his face. On the monitors, the brain scans showed what the doctors feared—a deep-seated blood clot forming near the temporal lobe, evidence of an internal hemorrhage.
Dashcam footage reviewed by the emergency team revealed the horrifying truth: though JC’s airbags had deployed, the violent force of the collision caused him to slam hard against the steering wheel before they could fully cushion the blow. The impact was brutal. His head bore the brunt of it, and the airbag, rather than saving him completely, detonated with such force that it worsened the trauma.
There was no time to waste.
Within minutes, West City’s top neurosurgeons were called in. Under bright surgical lights, the team moved with expert precision. The lead surgeon, Dr. Alan James, known for his delicate hand in micro-neurosurgery, guided the team as they worked to relieve the pressure and remove the clot.
“This guy’s been through hell,” one of the assisting nurses murmured, recognizing JC’s name from past government missions. “And still breathing.”
“He’s got someone to come back to,” Dr. James said, voice steady. “So let’s make sure he does.”
Outside the operating room, the tension in the waiting area was suffocating. Keira sat on the corner bench, hands clenched in her lap, her eyes fixed on the floor tiles. Beside her, Jessie paced nervously, arms crossed tightly against her chest.
“It’s going to be alright, Keira,” Jessie said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s been through worse, remember? I’ve seen JC after missions that should’ve killed him. He’s a fighter. He’ll pull through this.”
Keira didn’t speak. Her lips quivered slightly, her eyes glassy. “But what if this time… he doesn’t?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Jessie walked over and sat beside her. “He will. He has to. You two just found your way back. Don’t let fear ruin what’s not lost yet.”
Just then, Casper arrived, his sharp features etched with concern. His suit was slightly rumpled, his expression more serious than usual.
“Deja vu,” he muttered, glancing toward the operating room doors.
Jessie stood. “Who did this to him, bro?”
Casper looked from one woman to the other, then finally said, “Gregg Khan.”
Jessie froze. Keira’s eyes widened.
“He escaped the IPPSAF detention center,” Casper continued. “JC was the only one who had an ongoing link to the team involved in his capture—especially because of his connection to Queen Empire. Gregg found out.”
“Where is he now?” Jessie asked, though her voice already carried dread.
Casper pointed down the hall toward the quiet hallway where a body, still covered, lay guarded by two officers.
“He’s the DOA they brought in earlier. It was him driving the other car. He’s been following JC for days. That crash wasn’t an accident. He targeted JC deliberately.”
Keira’s jaw dropped. “But... he even wore a vest—he planned for this?”
“He didn’t expect the crash would kill him,” Casper said grimly. “He thought he’d walk away with JC taken out. But destiny flipped on him.”
Keira's voice cracked as she added, “He was supposed to submit his resignation today. He said… he wanted to focus on us. On his life.”
Casper nodded slowly. “He called me. Said he wanted to step away from all the missions, from all the risks. He was done gambling with his life.”
Silence followed. Each of them was locked in their own thoughts, their own silent prayers.
An hour passed before the operating room doors finally swung open. Dr. James emerged, pulling down his mask, a tired but relieved expression on his face.
“Mr. Casper Queen?”
“Yes,” Casper stepped forward immediately. “How is he?”
“A lucky man indeed,” Dr. James said. “The impact caused a cerebral hemorrhage, but we managed to remove the clot and stop the bleeding. He’s stable now. The next twenty-four hours are crucial, but barring complications, he should recover fully.”
Keira let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, collapsing into Jessie’s arms as tears welled in her eyes. Jessie held her close, gently rubbing her back.
“Thank you, doctor,” Casper said, his voice hoarse.
“He’ll be moved to a private room once we’re sure there are no immediate risks,” Dr. James added. He placed a hand on Keira’s shoulder. “You can rest now. He’s out of the woods.”
As the doctor walked away, Keira stood slowly, staring through the small window in the recovery door.
The man she loved had survived. Again. Even when fate tried to steal him away.