Chapter 11 - The Choice in the Room
General Vance leaned forward, placing his large, weathered hands flat on top of the red-stamped folder.
"You can't bury who you are, Grace," Vance said softly, looking directly into my eyes with deep sincerity.
"You can wear civilian scrubs, keep your head down, and hide your tattoo behind long sleeves all day long..."
"But when a boy was bleeding to death on that gurney this morning, you didn't act like a civilian contractor waiting for permission."
"You acted like a commander who refuses to let anyone die on her watch."
"This hospital needs you. The Army needs you. These young kids rolling through those doors need someone who actually cares."
Before I could answer, a loud alarm chimed from the desk's intercom system, followed by a panicked voice over the speaker.
"Emergency in ICU Bay 2! Specialist Lucas Pike's pressure is spiking wildly! Internal drainage tube displaced!"
I didn't hesitate for a single microsecond; I pushed myself out of the leather chair and sprinted toward the door.
"Grace!" Vance called out after me.
"I'm on it!" I shouted over my shoulder, pulling my scrub sleeves up past my elbows, exposing my Cinder Pass tattoo.
I burst into the ICU room, pushing past two panicked junior nurses who were staring helplessly at the flashing monitors.
Lucas was thrashing around in the bed, his face bright red as he choked against his endotracheal breathing tube.
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"Hold his shoulders!" I commanded sharply, grabbing a sedative syringe from the emergency crash cart.
"Sedative going in! Miles, check the pelvic drain seal now!"
