It took Dr Yan maybe an hour to stabilize Jensen enough for augmentation. For the others, it was a rather busy time; for Vera, less so. She burrowed into her own head the way David Sarif was and spent the better part of the time getting herself up to speed. News of the raid on Sarif Industries was patchy and frantic, but that matched up pretty well with what she had managed to get out of David. Sudden, brutal assault that had left all of his chief research team dead and some of his most state-of-the-art labs in flames or ruined. Corporate warfare on a scale Vera hadn't thought existed in the US yet.

And then there was Jensen, Sarif's security chief. Mortally wounded several times over, his only hope of survival lying in the hands of his boss. Despite thirty years' experience with trauma cases that had left Vera convinced she'd seen every shade of human response to tragedy, she was genuinely touched by David's drive to keep Jensen alive. After what had just happened to Sarif, there had to be so many other concerns weighing on David's mind. He has lost so many tonight, and now he will not allow himself to lose one more. Over the years in which she'd known David from LIMB clinic consultations and early augmentation efforts, that was the most defining characteristic of the man's personality: the sheer force of will he exhibited in the face of others' suffering. He would have made an excellent doctor. But he is where he needs to be.

She touched David's shoulder when Yan seemed finished. David was immersed in his engineering work, eyes glassy and expression absent, but shook himself into consciousness when she touched him. He raised his eyebrows.

"Ready?"

"As we will ever be, I suppose. Yan seems to have stabilized Jensen, although it may be temporary. Are you ready, David?"

Sarif stretched, nodded. While he had stood silent sentinel, Sarif employees had been rushing in madly with boxes of equipment almost since they'd arrived. David had apparently done his work fast. "We'll be starting with the cranial trauma," he said, almost conversationally. "Yan's repaired that artery, and that's stopped him from deteriorating, but if we don't get in there and fix the damage he's going to be a paralyzed vegetable when he wakes up."

"And the bleeding?"

"The synth-blood machines we've got him plugged into should handle that. For now, all we need is for him to stop bleeding internally, and the extra clotting agents are handling that. Once we know his brain's going to be okay, we can focus on replacing the internal organ damage so that he can get off all these damn machines. But until then-"

Behind them, Vera heard Yan throw out a slew of tautly-voiced obscenities. Then the sound that no doctor ever wanted to hear. Jensen was flatlining.

"Get the crash cart!" one of the doctors yelled. But that's all wrong, Vera thought. We can't shock his heart into beating. By now Jensen's heart would be a mess of clotted blood and dying muscle.

They'd go through the motions, but was only one way this would end, really. Jensen was gone. There was hardly any point in prolonging the inevitable.

"Change of plans," growled Sarif. "We're replacing the heart first. No, we're replacing the whole damn chest cavity."

Vera hurried over to Yan while David yelled something at the aides he had running back and forth into the clean room. "David wants to crack him open. Replace his whole chest cavity. But that doesn't seem like a good idea in his state."

Yan stood up from where he'd been leaning over Jensen, eyes flashing contained exasperation at her behind his smock. "It's not. The amount of blood he's lost, the synth blood is all that's keeping him alive. And cutting him open and gutting him isn't going to fucking help. I'm calling it in."

"We don't call it in," Vera reminded him. " That's up to David."

Yan threw up his hands, which Vera noticed were covered in Jensen's blood. "Since when is the engineer the one who makes the calls in the OR? I didn't notice 'Sarif' printed over the front desk when I walked in this morning. Did you?"

"He is paying for this operation," Vera pointed out. "And for your salary for the duration of this operation."

"That doesn't make him a qualified surgeon."

"Joseph, if we stop the operation now, then Adam Jensen dies. If we continue, then what's the worst thing that can happen? Are there any other life-threatening brain surgeries which could be performed tonight?"

Joseph Yan snorted. "I don't think Sarif would allow me to perform them anyway, if it came to it."

"You give him too little credit. I have known him for years. He is a compassionate man."

"He is a desperate man," said Yan, as David came back.

"Right," David began, "we've got the augs ready. He's already asphyxiating now that his heart's stopped, so this shouldn't cause any additional brain trauma. We go in-"

"Scoop out his guts like butchers, and sew him back up with Sarif tech to go with his Sarif blood," said Yan. "This is your new plan, David?"

Sarif's eyes slotted in sudden fury. "Yan, right? Look, son, if you don't like the game plan then get out of my way. The kid needs this operation or he's dead."

"He's already dead. His heart's stopped."

David spread his hands out almost cruciform, sardonically angelic. "Wonderful. Then we have nothing to lose."

Before Yan could say anything, Vera grabbed him by the shoulder. "Gentlemen, we have a dying man on our hands. This is far beyond unprofessional." To Yan, she said, "And if you refuse to act, then I will."

"You're hardly qualified to operate," Yan began, then cut off abruptly as she made a beeline for Jensen. Vera unhooked the defibrillator, wired it up atop the seemingly endless debris of blood and cuts across Jensen's body.

"Clear!"

"You're mad," Yan murmured as Jensen's entire body spasmed violently. "He is dead already."

"Clear!" Vera turned to him in the sudden quiet after the defibrillator fired. "We have less than two minutes until he likely starts to sustain brain damage."

Yan sighed. "Vera, there's a half-inch hole in the side of his head!"

"Clear!"

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Jensen's chest ratcheted upwards for the span of a second and then collapsed back onto the bed. Behind Vera, the flatline became a series of steady peeps.

David raised both eyebrows. "Kid's got heart, doesn't he."

She laughed with relief. "Yes. And now we need to move, fast. Before his condition worsens."

Yan led them away from Jensen and the machinery that surrounded and penetrated him, and then returned to his work. It took less than a second for him to interface his spinal implant directly with the surgical robot. His body went limp with spastic abruptness. Above him the machinery twitched into consciousness. The arms descended, and within seconds Vera could smell the unmistakable stench of lasers on human flesh. Behind Yan, the arms sketched and stitched along Jensen in minute and precise movements, a metal alien dancing.

David Sarif watched it all tensely, arms folded. Vera touched his arm.

"Yan is very good at his work, David. Jensen will likely regain all of his motor function, and the effects of his cranial injuries will quite possibly resemble those of a concussion at most." She allowed herself a small comforting smile. "Within a year or so, he might even be capable of running your security again."

Sarif said nothing for too long, and then deflated resignedly with a sigh. "Yeah. But see, Vera, the thing is... he's no good to me like this."