Mark was so disturbed that he hurriedly left Thomas Tower wearing only his white shirt and black Trouser without informing Lillian his secretary of the occurrence, his hands was shaking while he was trying to press the button of the functioning Elevator in order to take him straight to the ground floor.
The heavy silver steel door of the Elevator opened and quickly stepped out aiming at his Black SUV packed outside the entrance of the Tower, with his Head of security 'Frank' Standing at alert because Mark has called him to start up the car before he left his office.
Mark Thomas, head of security, started the car and began driving to the hospital, his guard seated beside him. As they turned onto the main road, a hail of bullets suddenly rained down on them, the sound of gunfire shattering the air.
But Mark's car was bulletproof, a precaution he had taken given his high-profile position. The vehicle's armor plating held strong, protecting them from the deadly onslaught.
Mark's guard instinctively returned fire, his own weapon drawn as he expertly handled the car's mounted gun. Mark, meanwhile, kept his focus on the road, expertly maneuvering the car to evade their attackers.
The gunmen, however, were relentless, their numbers seemingly multiplying as they surrounded the car. Mark's guard continued to lay down suppressive fire, trying to pin them back.
Despite being outnumbered, Mark's training and experience kicked in. He executed a series of precision turns, using the car's advanced defensive systems to shake off their pursuers. They escaped and they couldn't hurt an hair from their heads, so they drove their car heading straight to New York city Hospital.
Mark Thomas burst through the hospital doors, his tall frame and purposeful stride commanding attention. His eyes scanned the bustling lobby, locking onto the reception desk where a harried nurse looked up from her station.
"Mark Thomas," he announced, his deep voice firm and authoritative. "I'm here to see Diana. She was brought in as an emergency."
The nurse's expression turned sympathetic as she checked her computer screen. "Ah, yes, Mr. Thomas. Diana is in the ICU. Let me just check with the doctor..."
Mark's jaw clenched in impatience, but he nodded curtly, his eyes never leaving the nurse's face. After a brief moment, she nodded and gestured toward the elevators.
"ICU is on the third floor. The doctor will meet you there."
Mark didn't wait for further instructions, striding toward the elevators with a sense of urgency. As the doors slid open, he stepped inside, his eyes fixed on the display panel as the numbers ticked upward. The doors opened on the third floor, and Mark strode out into the quiet, antiseptic corridors of the ICU.
A doctor in a white coat approached him, a somber expression on his face. "Mr. Thomas, I'm Dr. Patel. We've been expecting you."
Mark, thank goodness you're here, his face grave with worry, Mark's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. "What's Diana's condition?" he demanded, his voice low and even.
"Diana's condition has taken a turn for the worse. She slipped into a coma a few hours ago, and we're still trying to determine the cause."
Mark's expression turned grim as he approached the bed. Diana lay motionless, her face pale and still. He felt a surge of fear and helplessness as he took her hand in his.
"What's the latest on the tests?" he asked, his voice firm but laced with concern.
"We're still running some tests, but so far, everything is inconclusive," the doctor replied. "We've checked for infections, toxins, and other possible causes, but nothing is standing out. It's as if her body just...shut down."
Mark's eyes narrowed. "I want to see the test results myself. Get me everything you have."
The doctor nodded and handed Mark a thick file filled with medical jargon and data. Mark scanned it quickly, his eyes scanning the pages with a practiced intensity.
As he read, his expression grew increasingly concerned. Something wasn't adding up. He could feel it in his gut.
"Get me the head of the hospital on the phone," Mark said, his voice firm. "I want to know what's going on here."
Dr. Patel, the lead physician on Diana's case, approached Mark with a somber expression. "Mark, I'm afraid we've reached a critical point in Diana's treatment. We've done everything we can here, but...she needs to be moved to a more specialized facility."
Mark's eyes narrowed. "What kind of facility?"
Dr. Patel hesitated before responding. "A private research facility, equipped to handle cases like Diana's. They have the latest technology and expertise to help us understand what's happening to her."
Mark's grip on the file tightened. "What makes you think this facility can help her when you can't?"
Dr. Patel's expression turned sympathetic. "Mark, we're dealing with something unprecedented here. Diana's condition is...unique. The facility I'm talking about has experience with similar cases. They can offer her the best chance of recovery."
Mark's eyes searched Dr. Patel's face, looking for any sign of deception. But all he saw was genuine concern and a desire to help.
"Where is this facility?" Mark asked, his voice firm.
Dr. Patel hesitated before responding. "It's...outside the city. About an hour's drive from here."
Mark's eyes narrowed. "I want to see it. Now."
The sky which was once a light is now dark, the movements of people and cars has now reduced to minimum, everyone has closed from their various working place and heading straight to their various homes, Mark and the other workers wasn't ables to go home, none of them wants to leave Diana alone in the hospital.
Mark decided to relieve Bernard and Emma so they could go to the mansion to rest while he and Charles would wait till morning when Diana would be move to a private hospital for her care.
"Bernard I want you and Emma out of here now, please go to the mansion and rest your body I appreciate all your efforts in bringing her here, I'll take it from now."
"Okay sir!" Said Bernard.
"Alright sir!" Said Emma...
As the evening wore on, Jefferson, Diana's father, pushed aside the nagging thoughts of his daughter's mysterious illness, opting instead for the familiar comfort of his exclusive club. He arrived at the posh establishment, greeted by the warm glow of crystal chandeliers and the soft hum of conversation.
As he made his way to the bar, he was enveloped in a sense of normalcy, the worries of the day melting away with each step. He ordered his usual scotch, neat, and took a seat at the bar, survey
ing the room with a sense of ownership.