Medical Center.
Christina had said "yes" to Dr. Burke's proposal.
The next day…
"Congrats!" Adam grinned at Dr. Burke as he walked up side-by-side with Christina.
"Thanks!" Burke beamed back.
Adam could tell—he was genuinely head-over-heels for her. And sure, Christina had more than just looks going for her; she had that spark. Burke knew how to appreciate it—a guy above the petty stuff. Adam? Nowhere close to that level of class.
Beep beep.
Beep beep.
His pager went off. Adam nodded at the happy couple and hustled to the ER with his four residents in tow.
"What's the situation?" he asked, but then he froze, recognizing the guy on the gurney. "Mr. O'Malley?"
"Dad!" George O'Malley's face went pale as he rushed forward. "What happened to you?"
"54-year-old male, rib fractures, severe abdominal pain," the paramedic rattled off.
"What went down?" Adam asked, checking him over while heading into the ER.
"Some punks tried to jack my truck. I fought 'em off," George's dad said with a casual chuckle. "Chased 'em down after I hopped out, but I tripped and ate it—messed up my ribs. No big deal."
"Carjacking? Fought them off?" George gaped, horrified.
"Yup!" His dad grinned. "George, you always griped about us dragging you turkey hunting every Thanksgiving. See why we kept at it? When push comes to shove, we can protect ourselves with a gun in hand!"
"Dad!" George yelped. "This isn't the time for that! How'd a carjacking this bad even happen?"
His dad had been a truck driver for decades—George had grown up hearing about hijackings.
"Not my first rodeo," his dad said with a shrug. "Tons of jerks out there try to mess with us truckers—stealing fuel, cargo, you name it. It's just been extra crazy lately."
"Why's that?" Adam's curiosity piqued.
"It started with this crew of carjacking speed freaks out in California!" George's dad's face darkened with anger. "They roll up in modded race cars, tailing us truckers in packs. They shoot grappling hooks onto the back, climb up all sneaky-like, and nab the good stuff. If a driver spots 'em, they switch to straight-up brazen robbery. Now? They just peel out in front, blast the windshield, hook the passenger seat, climb in, zap the driver with a tranquilizer gun, and peel off with the whole rig.
"They're pros—truckers can barely fight back. You either watch 'em loot your load or try to resist, lose control, crash, and end up dead or totaled. It's happened a bunch already. Those tricked-out cars are fast as hell, hitting remote highways where calling the cops does squat. That cancer's spread from Cali across the whole U.S. now. Copycats everywhere—some pull it off, some flop.
"But us truckers aren't pushovers. We've been in touch, gearing up. Baseball bats? Psh—straight to guns. Every driver's packing a shotgun now. They show up, we shoot! Same deal this time—ran into some dumbasses trying to play speed-racer robbers with no skills. I nailed one. Maybe we'll bump into him here, huh? Haha!"
"Dad!" George groaned, exasperated.
"Alright, alright," his dad said, dropping the grin. "I know shooting someone's not cool, but these guys are out of control. They've killed over ten drivers already. And the ones who lose precious cargo to them? Way more get canned. I had to shoot!"
"George, head to the free clinic today—don't stick around here," Adam ordered. "Melendez, take Mr. O'Malley for an X-ray, then book him for an endoscopy."
"Something wrong?" George asked, voice tight with worry.
"We'll know after the endoscopy," Adam said, shaking his head. "You're family—you can't be on this case."
"Adam…" George clearly didn't want to go.
"Dr. O'Malley," Adam said, frowning. "If you're not up for the clinic, take the day off. But you cannot interfere with the diagnosis. Carter, you're on clinic duty."
"Melendez, if Dr. O'Malley messes with you guys, boot him out immediately."
"Yes, sir!" the short resident chirped.
"Grey, with me," Adam said, divvying up tasks. He took Lexie to meet the next ambulance.
This time, it was a guy with his chest practically blown apart. Police sirens wailed in hot pursuit. No surprise—it was the dude George's dad had blasted with the shotgun.
After Adam finished stabilizing the near-shredded robber, Melendez piped up. "Dr. Duncan, Mr. O'Malley's endoscopy biopsy results are back." She handed him the report.
"Chief been told yet?" Adam asked, taking it.
"Not yet," she shook her head.
"Where's George?" Adam scanned the room, sighing.
"Not here either," Melendez said, glancing at him.
"Gotta tell him eventually," Adam muttered. Report in hand, he headed to the ward with Melendez.
George's two brothers were already there—the four O'Malleys making a ruckus. George fended off his brothers' teasing while their dad played peacemaker with a goofy smile.
"Dr. Duncan, how's it look?" George and his dad zeroed in on Adam the second he walked in.
"The biopsy's abnormal," Adam said, looking at George's dad. "Mr. O'Malley, you've got esophageal cancer, stage three. It's spread to your stomach. We need to operate to remove it, followed by chemo and radiation. I'm really sorry."
George went blank. The whole O'Malley crew froze.
"It's gotta be God's punishment," George's dad murmured. "I shouldn't have chased 'em. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have fallen, and if I hadn't fallen, we wouldn't have found the cancer…"
"More like God's protection," Adam said gently. "It's stage three now—complete cure's a long shot, but with aggressive treatment, your quality of life and lifespan can jump way up. If it hit stage four, surgery wouldn't even be an option."
Silence hung heavy.
Adam turned to George. "Anything you wanna say? If not, we need to get Mr. O'Malley an ultrasound ASAP to check if his heart can handle surgery."
George just shook his head, face ashen.
"Melendez, prep him for a pre-op ultrasound," Adam instructed.
She nodded and darted off.
Adam stepped out, catching sight of Agent Jesse Paige, who'd been watching him from the hall. "FBI handling this?"
"Yup," Jesse said, eyeing him. "Dr. Duncan, we could use your help."
"Sorry," Adam shook his head. "I'm swamped—no time."
"You don't even know what we're asking," Jesse frowned.
"Doesn't matter—I'm not interested," Adam grinned. "Unless it's personal, find someone else."
(End of Chapter)