"The rotting smell in Trauma Room 2 was unbearable, but when I finally cut off the 8-year-old boy's filthy, neglected cast, what fell out onto the sterile floor made every seasoned ER nurse scream and step back in pure horror.

The heavy steel door of the bunker gave way with a massive, metallic crash, falling inward onto the concrete floor in a cloud of dust and sparks.

Through the smoke, three figures in dark tactical gear stepped into the room, their weapons raised. In the center of the group, wearing a pristine wool coat and carrying a silver cane, was Silvio Lombardi.

Silvio looked around the room, his eyes scanning the empty cots before locking onto Sarah, who stood alone in the center of the bunker, her hands tucked into the pockets of her cream-colored dress.

"Dr. Jenkins," Silvio said, his voice smooth, polite, and entirely devoid of human empathy. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who dismantled my family's legacy. You’ve been quite a thorn in our side."

"The legacy is gone, Silvio," Sarah said, her voice steady and cold. "Your assets are seized. Your men are dead or in prison. There’s nothing left for you here."

"There is the forty million dollars currently sitting in the Zurich accounts," Silvio smiled, taking a slow step forward, his cane tapping against the concrete. "An account that requires the biometric signature of Arthur Harris’s son to unlock. Where is the boy, Dr. Jenkins?"

"He’s gone," Sarah said. "You’re too late."

Silvio’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, venomous snarl. He gestured to his operators. "Search the facility. Find the boy. And if the doctor refuses to cooperate, feel free to use whatever... medical procedures you find necessary to change her mind."

One of the operators stepped forward, his hand reaching for Sarah’s arm.

But Sarah was faster.

She pulled her hand from her pocket, the syringe of Succinylcholine flashing in the dim light of her flashlight. With the lightning-fast precision of an ER doctor who had performed thousands of emergency injections, she drove the needle deep into the operator’s neck, plunging the plunger home.

The operator gasped, his weapon clattering to the floor as his muscles instantly turned to water. He collapsed onto his back, his eyes wide with a sudden, absolute terror as his diaphragm paralyzed, leaving him unable to draw a single breath.

"What did you do to him?" Silvio roared, stepping back.

"He has about two minutes before his brain starves of oxygen," Sarah said, her voice carrying a cold, professional authority. "And I have another syringe right here, Silvio. Who’s next?"

The second operator raised his weapon, aiming directly at Sarah’s chest.