The helicopter touches down on the hospital’s rooftop helipad. A bodyguard throws the door open, and Lance stands. He moves carefully to avoid jostling Andrea. She moans in his arms, and her head lolls to the side. She’s like a broken doll in his arms.
Outside, a team of emergency technicians and doctors are waiting with a stretcher. Lance gently lays her on top, and the technicians quickly strap her down. They wheel her away at a steady jog, and Lance follows behind. The white hospital corridors seem endless, and the stench of bleach burns his nose. They wind through the maze-like passages, finally arriving outside an operating room. Lance tries to follow them through the door, but a doctor bars his way.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t come in,” the doctor says. “Surgeons and nurses only
