Despite his fascination with John's new Toyota Tundra, Jack couldn't help but envy Hannah's Ford Mustang Shelby GT500. Every time she drove that muscle car with the red cobra badge through town, it turned heads like no other.
"How about finding me a classic muscle car?" Jack suggested.
Men shouldn't come into money too easily; it makes them restless. Jack hadn't even gotten his hands on the reward yet and he was already dreaming of buying a car.
While he had accumulated quite a few practical skills over the years, working on a car himself might be a bit of a stretch. But acquiring and restoring a classic muscle car seemed like a feasible project. Living in the USA, where gas is cheap and the roads are long, he felt compelled to own a high-horsepower, iconic car. It just seemed right.
John nodded, understanding Jack's desire. "Give me two weeks. I'll find you something that'll make you happy."
An hour or so later, the operating room doors finally swung open. Both men rushed forward.
"The patient doesn't show any signs of internal bleeding at the moment, but we need to keep monitoring him. The surgery on his leg is complete, and he should wake up in about half an hour. However, considering his mild concussion, I wouldn't recommend questioning him for long periods," Carrie informed them, noticing John beside her. Though her face was half-covered by a mask, the crinkles around her eyes betrayed her smile.
"I just need to watch over him, not question him. You guys carry on."
Seeing the unspoken connection between John and Carrie, Jack gave up on further explanations and helped the nurses wheel the still-unconscious Alejandro Mesia to his room.
Caring for a patient is a tiresome job. Jack couldn't afford to be careless. With his belly now full, he felt a bit drowsy and resorted to pacing back and forth in the room to stay awake.
After what felt like an eternity, Alejandro Mesia groaned softly and began to stir.
"Where am I?"
"You're in a hospital, Mr. Mesia," Jack quickly approached the bed and gently held him down, signaling him not to move.
"You just had surgery on your left leg. The doctors said you might have a mild concussion."
Mesia looked dazed. "Who are you? How do you know my real name?"
Jack's heart skipped a beat. The thing he feared most seemed to be happening. Had Mesia really lost his memory?
"I rescued you from two hitmen. Remember? You fell from the pedestrian bridge, and I brought you to the hospital."
Mesia rubbed his forehead and groaned again.
"Sorry, my head is still a bit fuzzy. You mentioned earlier that you were sent by Mr. King."
Jack exhaled in relief. No memory loss, thank God.
"Ray King asked me to find you and provide protection. He's probably on a flight to LA right now."
"We need to leave the hospital immediately. They won't give up easily. Someone betrayed me."
Mesia suddenly became agitated and tried to get up.
Jack firmly held him down. Whether this guy was betrayed or planning to run away with stolen money didn't matter. His job was to keep an eye on him until Ray King arrived in the morning.
"Calm down. Your injuries prevent you from moving. Ray King said he has your team under control. I'm here to protect you, and the LAPD is ready to provide support. You're safe here."
Mesia's anxiety slowly subsided, but he kept mumbling to himself.
"Please be careful. They've hired professional killers. I've been on the run from them. Be careful, be..."
Probably due to the sedative in the IV drip, Mesia drifted back into a deep sleep as his tension eased.
Jack instinctively reached for his phone to check the time, only to remember that his beloved iPhone 6 was smashed to pieces. Just then, John quietly peeked through the door, glanced at the sleeping patient, and gestured for Jack to join him.
"What time is it?" Jack asked, not in the habit of wearing a watch and missing his phone's convenience.
"Uh, just past 10. Carrie's shift ends at midnight. I thought I'd come check on you before taking her home," John replied, a hint of awkwardness in his tone.
"Did she kick you out because you were in the way?" Jack teased with a grin.
Despite the jokes, having John around made the wait less tedious. The two chatted in the hallway, discussing everything from John's house renovations to Jack's ideal muscle car.
Before they knew it, it was midnight, and John hastily bid Jack farewell, eager to spend the night with Carrie.
"Is he really that eager at his age?" Jack thought to himself, feeling a bit smug about how well he'd controlled his emotions today, despite the stressful events.
Just then, a young, frail-looking Latina nurse approached him.
"Hi, I'm here to transfer the patient to the ICU for a check-up to rule out internal bleeding."
Jack eyed her suspiciously and glanced at her name badge, gesturing for her to hand it over.
"No problem," the nurse said, handing over her ID card.
"Susan Taylor. How long have you worked here?" Jack asked, still cautious, despite the photo on the ID matching her face.
"Many fives," she replied, spreading her hands in a vague gesture. Seeing Jack's confusion, she elaborated with a smile.
"Five months in the ICU, five years in the hospital, and I started at five p.m. today."
Jack relaxed a bit but insisted, "Okay, but I need to go with you."
"No problem." The nurse expertly raised the bed rail and pushed the bed out of the room.
Jack watched as the nurse wheeled Mesia into the ICU room and closed the door. He continued to wait aimlessly outside until he saw John and Carrie, now out of her lab coat, chatting and laughing as they approached.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Carrie asked, surprised to see Jack.
"The nurse said she needed to do some post-op checks and moved the patient to the ICU."
"But I just spoke with his surgeon. He said he'd personally handle the post-op checks," Carrie replied, puzzled.
"Damn it!"
Jack finally realized something was wrong. The nurse hadn't slipped him a note or even flirted a bit—things he had assumed were because she might have different preferences.
He quickly pushed open the ICU room door, only to find it empty, the door on the other side leading to another corridor left ajar.
"Where's the nearest elevator?"
Jack turned to Carrie, knowing they had to move Mesia in a wheelchair and could only use the hospital elevator.
"I know the way. Follow me," John quickly pointed out the direction, and they sprinted down the corridor, rounding the corner just in time to see the elevator doors closing. Inside, the Latina nurse and a bald, suited man stood next to the unconscious Mesia, who was slumped over in a wheelchair.
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