Chapter 3

The anesthesiologist called out to me, "Cardiac arrest. Prepare for defibrillation at 120 joules."

A long, continuous beep echoed through the room.

On the heart monitor, the line that signaled life turned into a flat, lifeless streak as the alarm blared.

The operating room burst into frantic activity.

I stared at that flat line, didn't even have time to catch my breath before shouting, "Clear out, now."

But Yael was still giving orders over the phone. "Wait. Let Yvette take over. She's the lead surgeon."

"Yvette, don't be nervous. Go for it. Be bold," Yael added.

Yvette lunged at me, trying to snatch the defibrillator out of my grip.

"Didn't we agree I'd do it? Why are you trying to steal my credit?" she snapped.

I shoved her hand away, only to realize she'd already set the defibrillator to maximum power.

"You're insane," I yelled at her.

Defibrillation had always started with low voltage and was gradually increased. The higher the voltage, the greater the damage to the myocardium.

If she had kept doing that, the patient would have been brought back only for the heart to go into failure right afterward.

I shot her a glare, but she leaned in, murmuring under her breath right by my ear. "Honestly, I don't think this old guy's even worth saving. If he dies, whatever. He's just a test subject for me anyway.

"Let's get one thing straight, Vanessa. If this operation goes south, you're taking all the heat."

She added, "Yael and I already made it clear. If this surgery tanks, you're out. He's fed up with clueless women like you. Get ready to be written up and dumped."

I didn't have time for her insane nonsense. I barked at the anesthesiologist to adjust the voltage and charge it up, fast.

She tried to block me again, but I dodged to the side, and she missed.

I gave her a swift kick, sending her sprawling to the floor, then fired the defibrillator at the patient's chest.

Zap.

The patient's body arched off the table.

The monitor blipped once, then went right back to a flat line.

"One milliliter of adrenaline, IV," I shouted.

The nurse handed me the syringe. Once I'd given the shot, I started chest compressions.

One, two, three.

Everyone stared at the monitor, holding their breath, yet still nothing.

"200 joules."

"Clear."

Zap.

Beep, beep, beep.

The patient's heart kicked back to life. Everyone breathed out in relief, and a few murmured cheers rippled through the room. He was alive for now. But the real challenge was only beginning.

I shook off the nerves and pulled myself together, getting ready for the surgery.

But Yael was still rambling on the phone, refusing to shut up.

There was no time to waste. I snatched up the mic and barked out, "I'm taking over the OR. Everyone, follow my orders. Get ready to open the chest."

The next second, I slashed open the patient's chest. The nurse beside me immediately fired up the bone saw and split the sternum.

The patient's heart was laid bare before us.

In that instant, I spotted a tiny tear in the pericardium, blood seeping out steadily.

Yvette's guidewire had punctured the pericardium.

I held my breath, slid the suction tube into the pericardium, and drew out the fluid. Then, I raced to stitch up the tear with the suture needle.

Once the tear was sealed, we moved on to the bypass.

The perfusionist fired up the heart-lung machine.

I harvested a blood vessel from the patient's thigh, and Caleb took over the stitching while the first assistant opened up the view.

I worked with speed and precision, shaping the vessel and stitching the ends together, first the proximal, then the distal. The whole procedure went off without a hitch.

In under an hour, the wound was closed, and the heart-lung machine was powered down.

The OR burst into cheers, the whole team grateful to have made it through.

I stood there, finally letting out the breath I'd been holding.

But then Yael's voice crackled through my headset, his anger practically boiling over.

"Vanessa, you acted on your own, defied my orders, and just brushed off everything I said. Do you have any idea what kind of consequences this could bring?" he snapped.

My mind jolted as Yael's angry voice rang in my ears, and suddenly Yvette's earlier threat came rushing back to me. "If this surgery fails, you're the one who's going to take the fall."

So that was it. They'd been playing me from the very start. No matter what kind of crazy stunt Yvette pulled, I'd be the one left holding the bag.