Chapter 18

A second shot rang out almost instantly after the first...and Graham sank to the floor directly on top of Steve's motionless body. The Security team (who had been just steps behind Kingsley) flooded the room, prepared to shoot again if needed. Jaime covered her eyes and sobbed, unable to look. Oscar ran in with his own gun drawn as Security knelt beside the two fallen men, pulling one off of the other.

''All clear, Sir,'' one of the guards told Oscar. ''Gunman is deceased.''

''And...?'' Oscar was afraid to give voice to what his eyes were telling him. Jaime uncovered her own eyes just in time to see the guard shake his head sadly over Steve. He was gone too. Jaime's sobs turned into a broken-hearted wail as Rudy and Michael came rushing in. Michael knelt over Steve and began calling out orders, rapid-fire.

''Get me the scissors from that drawer! Call for a crash cart - and take Jaime out of here!''

''Michael,'' Rudy began gently, ''I don't think -''

''I've got minutes to get his heart started - minutes - or less!'' Michael snapped. ''You can call for another surgeon and take your chances - take his chances - on the outcome when someone else finally makes his way up here...or you can let me do this!''

Rudy nodded to the guards, who had already begun carrying out Michael's commands. ''Crash cart's on the way,'' one reported, handing him the scissors. Two more helped Jaime from the bed - and ended up carrying her out when her legs buckled in her grief. Michael began assessing and working with brisk efficiency. There was virtually no blood; it had been instantaneous. If he was going to do chest compressions though (until the crash cart arrived), the wound needed to be cauterized or when/if Steve's heart started beating again, the bleeding would be profuse. That was what the scissors was for. One cut to Steve's own right index finger gave Michael the wires he needed and Rudy assisted by maneuvering Steve's arm into the proper position and holding it there while Michael closed off the affected blood vessels. Then Rudy moved the arm back to Steve's side...and they could hear Jaime's inconsolable cries from the next room as Michael began careful chest compressions.

The bullet appeared to be lodged somewhere in the outer portion of the right lung or the thoracic cavity, making chest compressions risky - but Steve was already gone and Michael needed to get the heart beating as quickly as he could (to ward off cellular damage from oxygen deprivation), so he pumped Steve's chest carefully but firmly. When the nurses came barreling in with the crash cart, he called for epinephrine, intracardial while Rudy began tubing their lifeless patient so he could force air into his lungs. A gurney arrived, that it had been hoped would transport Steve to surgery but for many long moments it appeared that surgery would be of no use. Then...

''Doctor, you've got a pulse!'' the nurse who'd been monitoring Steve for any signs of life announced.

''By God, you did it!'' Rudy exclaimed.

Michael shook his head. ''We don't have him 'back' yet. Let's get him on the gurney - carefully.'' Four sets of hands lifted the extremely critical man onto the transport gurney while Rudy continued to bag him. ''I'll go in,'' Michael told the nurses as they all ran toward the OR, ''but find me a thoracic man as fast as you can get him here.''

Back upstairs, in the room that had just been the site of such awful chaos, Oscar covered Graham Kingsley with the sheet from the bed and headed into the next room to let Jaime know her husband was still alive. Mark was tending to her - and her forlorn wailing had quieted to tiny, gasping little sobs after he'd been forced to administer a sedative. Seeing Grant Kingsley's twin fire a gun and then hearing that Steve was gone had sent her into a full-blown flashback. She was really no calmer now, but her fight-or-flight instinct had been drained out of her and the drug had dazed her sufficiently that she was remaining in the bed (where a patient recovering from major surgery herself needed to be). She didn't seem to notice that Oscar was there. He motioned to Mark and filled him in from the doorway in a quiet whisper, unsure if it would be giving Jaime false hope.

Mark decided to break it to her, very gently, to at least give her that shred of hope to cling to. He told her that Steve was in rough shape - that they didn't know if he'd make it - but he had been revived and was on his way in to surgery.

''Steve's...alive?''

''He's alive,'' Mark confirmed. He gave his troubled patient a second injection and she finally gave in...and closed her eyes.

Michael had just successfully removed the bullet when the thoracic specialist arrived to take over. He finished the follow-up repair of the damage to Steve's lung, giving his highest praise to what Michael had already accomplished. Rudy, too, was looking at Michael with an admiring eye. His protege had more than proven himself - twice - when it had mattered the most. Rudy was certain now that any problems could be dealt with and overcome; he would be proud to keep the young (but highly skilled) doctor as a member of his team.