At the medical center.
"Dr. Duncan?"
A short guy called out from the doorway of the ward.
"What's up?"
Adam strolled over.
"The ultrasound shows Mr. O'Malley has aortic valve insufficiency," the short guy said.
"Go get George and the others," Adam ordered casually before stepping into the ward to check the ultrasound machine himself.
"Dr. Duncan, is something wrong with my heart?"
George's dad asked, his face going pale.
"Yeah," Adam nodded. "The ultrasound confirms your aortic valve isn't closing properly. We'll need to do an artificial valve replacement first, followed by tumor removal surgery."
Soon, George and his two brothers rushed in.
"Dad, don't worry," George said right away, trying to comfort him. "The valve replacement is a simple procedure—especially for Dr. Duncan. He's done it a million times and never messed up once. You're in good hands! 😊"
"I know," his dad forced a smile, looking at Adam. "George has told me all about you, Dr. Duncan. They call you the miracle doctor, right? I trust you."
"Thanks. I'll do my best," Adam said with a grin. "We'll schedule the valve replacement for tomorrow. Melendez, you're in charge of Mr. O'Malley. Call me if anything comes up."
"Got it," the short guy replied.
"Adam," George followed him out, looking conflicted. "About my dad's surgery…"
"What's on your mind?" Adam asked gently. "If you want to bring in another expert, I'm totally cool with that."
It was George's dad, after all. Adam got it—family worries hit different. He wouldn't hold it against him.
"No way!" George shook his head fast. "You've even fixed the Hand of God! Who could possibly top you? I'm just… worried about my dad, you know?"
"Get your mom over here ASAP," Adam suggested. "I'm confident, but you're a doctor too. You know we're not gods—every surgery has risks. Remember when you first started and nearly botched an appendectomy? 😅 I told the Hand of God and the chief I'd do my best. Same goes for your dad and you. I'll give it everything I've got, but the rest isn't up to me. You get that, right?"
"Yeah," George sighed,无奈地 (helplessly).
His doctor side already knew this—no need to spell it out. But his family side? That part couldn't help stressing, hoping Adam would toss him some kind of guarantee to ease his mind. Too bad Adam wasn't the type to make promises he couldn't keep.
---
The Next Day
2:30 AM.
Adam drove to an intersection, honked at a black SUV, and led it onto an empty road.
"Get in," he said, pulling over. A guy and a girl stepped out of the SUV and walked over. "Jesse, you take shotgun. Hurry up!"
The woman was Jesse Paige, naturally. The guy? Oh, it's him. It's him. You know who! 😏
Once they were both in, the sports car roared to life. Adam floored it—wind whipping, drifts galore, smooth as butter. Jesse gripped the handle, frowning hard, fighting the urge to puke.
Adam glanced over, checking her seatbelt. Seeing her expression, he chuckled. OCD kicking in, he double—no, triple-checked her belt was secure before flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror.
The newbie in the back? Totally hyped. Eyes shining, loving the speed.
Adam pulled off all kinds of flashy moves, ending with a slick sideways park.
"Wanna learn?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the starry-eyed newbie through the mirror.
"Heck yeah!" The guy nodded like crazy.
Fresh out of school, not yet officially with the FBI, he was obsessed with cars. He'd messed around with driving tricks before—pretty decent for an amateur, honestly. That's why they picked him. Time to level up those skills fast, go undercover as a wanted criminal, infiltrate a carjacking crew, and gather evidence.
From East Coast to West Coast, the FBI was pulling out all the stops. That Cali carjacking gang must've really ticked them off! 😤
"I'll teach you," Adam said with a grin, "but there's a catch."
"What's that?" Jesse asked, still catching her breath, hand on her chest.
"See that pocket on the back of the seat?" Adam smirked. "There's some files and footage in there. Take it home, study it, then come back with something real—something deep. Impress me with your sincerity, and I'll train you."
"Deal!" The newbie grabbed the bag, agreeing instantly.
A test for skills this epic? Fair enough!
"What are you waiting for?" Adam nudged. "Get going! Time's ticking—learn fast, nail the mission sooner."
"Oh, right!" The newbie hopped out with the bag, about to say something to his lady boss when—vroom—the car peeled out, Jesse still inside, leaving him in the dust.
Thinking of her stunning face, he shook his head with a wry smile.
"Slow down… What'd you give him?" Jesse asked from the passenger seat, frowning but not budging.
"Relax," Adam eased off the gas a bit, laughing. "Nothing to freak you out. I'm actually helping you guys."
"Oh, really?" Jesse shot him that sarcastic laugh he knew too well. "Prove it. Impress me."
"You told me before—you brought me in to stop more truck drivers from getting hurt. That's your whole mission, right?" Adam said.
"…Yeah," Jesse replied, her tone softening. Adam's past clapbacks echoed in her mind, making her less righteous-sounding.
"Those files and tapes I gave him? All about the carjackers' crimes," Adam explained with a smile. "Plus some stuff on crime families—helps him see through the BS excuses they hide behind. He's a rookie, and he's way into racing. Last thing I want is to train up a new super-criminal! 😅"
"O'Connor's not like that!" Jesse's expression softened, nodding at Adam's logic, but she still shook her head. "He was vetted. They picked him for a reason."
"Heh," Adam tossed her laugh right back.
"…What's that supposed to mean?" She froze.
"Don't get too cocky," Adam said, half-smirking. "After everything I've pointed out, you still think you guys are flawless? Come on.
Those family-style crime crews? If the leader's got even a shred of charm, trust me—they're more tempting than your shiny 'justice.' Especially to a young, adrenaline-junkie racer. That Cali gang's causing this much chaos—think their boss has no game? No pull?
Did you see how O'Connor looked at me back there? Send a rookie like him undercover with that crew, and the odds of him getting swayed are sky-high. You'd end up with a total clown show—training talent for the bad guys. What's next, 'Crime Crew Delivery Service'?"
"…" Jesse had no comeback.
Undercover gigs turning too good—agents climbing the ranks, leading the enemy against their own? Not unheard of. The crews that need infiltrating? They've got cash, power, hot girls—everything. Who'd pick a rusty old bike over that?
---
(Chapter End)