The knock on the ICU door wasn't gentle.
“NYPD. Open up!"
Sierra froze. Julian gripped the bedrails, already halfway upright.
“You're not moving," she said sharply.
“I'm not letting them take you."
“You just had heart surgery."
Julian yanked the monitor leads free. “Which is why they won't expect what's coming."
She stared at him. “You have a plan?"
He smirked faintly. “Always."
---
Outside the ICU, officers coordinated.
“She's inside. Warrant's en route," one said into a radio.
But inside, Julian activated a slim remote from his hospital bag.
Nano-drones—WestTech prototypes—triggered immediately. In seconds, they cloaked the ICU with a fog of soft interference: visual distortion, signal suppression, facial blur masks.
Cameras went dark.
Sierra blinked. “You installed drones
