Chapter 97: Alive

[Chapter 97: Alive]

In the ambulance, everyone stared in shock at Ian. What was going on? How did the bullet come out on its own?

After a long pause, the paramedic finally realized what had happened and exclaimed, "This is amazing! But we still need a waiver to continue treatment."

Lena nodded repeatedly, saying, "I'll sign it."

They had done everything they could, and now it was a matter of waiting.

...

Time felt agonizingly slow; with every passing second, Gaskill was that much closer to death. Ian and Lena felt their nerves fraying as the ambulance's siren droned on, seemingly endless. Nearly twenty minutes had passed, and they still hadn't arrived at the hospital.

Ian couldn't help but ask, "Where are we headed?"

A paramedic responded, "Bernard Private Hospital."

Ian furrowed his brow, "Shouldn't we be closer to Feather Cross Hospital? They specialize in gunshot wounds."

The paramedic hesitated before replying, "There's traffic that way."

"Is that so?" Ian mumbled quietly.

As an experienced paparazzo, Ian quickly picked up on the paramedic's uneasy response.

He was nervous!

For now, though, Ian kept quiet, choosing to wait in silence.

...

The internal torment and anxiety grew heavier as Ian held Lena, who was crying, while his gaze remained fixed on Gaskill. Finally, another ten minutes passed before the ambulance finally pulled into Bernard Hospital.

Emergency doctors and nurses rushed Gaskill into the facility. A burly doctor shouted, "Get him checked immediately! Find out where the bullet went."

Ian produced the mangled bullet and said, "It already came out."

The stubborn doctor stared at the bullet before stating, "We still need to take X-rays."

Ian insisted, "You better work quickly. We've lost too much time on the road."

Watching Gaskill being escorted to the emergency room, Ian and Lena anxiously waited outside.

...

Pale and shaken, Lena leaned against Ian, occasionally letting out soft cries. Even though she cared for Ian, she still loved Gaskill, and the thought of losing her husband caused her heart to ache.

Two hours later, the burly doctor emerged from the trauma unit, removing his mask. "His condition is stable. The bullet missed the vital areas, and it had insufficient force; the hard skull reduced its impact, causing minimal internal damage. His only issue was the bullet retrieval, but for some reason, it came out on its own. He'll need time to heal, but we can't be sure if there will be any lasting effects, as he might have sustained nerve damage."

Lena let out a long sigh of relief. "That's great news."

A nurse softly said, "Please, follow me to complete the admission paperwork."

...

As they left, Ian pondered for a moment before stepping aside to make a call. "Crips, it's me. Three hours ago, there was a shooting... Yes, find out who did it and why."

This shooting was obviously not aimed at Gaskill or Ian. The old man had got caught in the crossfire.

Crips quickly replied, "Got it, boss. Anything else?"

Ian thought again and said, "Check if there was traffic on the route from Montecito to Feather Cross Hospital."

"Understood."

...

In the hospital room, Ian sat beside Gaskill, who remained unconscious.

Lena held Gaskill's hand and whispered, "I won't say a word."

"Huh?" Ian looked at Lena, puzzled.

A hint of a smile crossed Lena's face as she remarked, "I know you pulled out the bullet... though I don't understand how you did it."

Ian looked at her, surprised. "Why do you think that?"

Lena spoke softly, "Because I know you, Ian. You asked that paramedic if it was possible to operate without opening his skull, and the next second, you picked up the bullet."

Ian shook his head gently. "That was just a coincidence."

Lena smiled, "You always show it in your eyes when you lie. Now, I'm sure of it."

Ian: "..."

Lena turned her attention back to her husband and said softly, "I can understand your hesitation. I won't tell anyone. If you don't want me to know, I can believe the bullet came out on its own; miracles can happen, right?"

Ian chuckled.

He kissed Lena lightly and said, "That really is the best explanation."

Lena replied softly, "But I'm not sure I can keep it a secret from Gaskill... I'm not used to deceiving him."

Ian responded with silence.

After a moment, he said, "You could try saying I had a magnet and pulled it out."

Lena rolled her eyes, "That sounds good; I hope he's dumb enough to believe it."

"Then how about it being a miracle of life?" Ian suggested.

Lena laughed.

She hugged Ian tightly and gave him a sweet kiss just then a commotion arose outside the hospital room.

...

Ian stepped out to find a group of reporters rushing in, intending to barge directly into the room to take pictures.

Ian grabbed one of them, shouting, "Get lost, you blood-sucking parasites! The patient is still unconscious; don't disturb him!"

The reporter looked at Ian in shock, "Ian Carr? Oh, hell! Why are you here again? You always manage to beat everyone to the punch!"

A few reporters lamented as they left, realizing that as long as Ian Carr was around, their exclusive scoop was gone.

Lena emerged from the room, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at Ian, "Are you going to report on this?"

Ian wrapped his arms around Lena and kissed her softly, "Of course not, baby."

...

By dusk, Ian received word from Crips.

The shooting was carried out by Bloods, seemingly due to a deal gone wrong, and these brazen thugs had come all the way to Montecito to kill someone.

Keep in mind, this was a wealthy neighborhood, heavily protected by the police.

Sometimes, gangs just acted without regard for the rules.

As for the route from Montecito to Feather Cross Hospital, Crips confirmed there were no traffic delays.

Ian remained silent for a long time, pondering that response.

He finally asked, "Why did the ambulance take the long way? Crips, can you give me an answer?"

Crips laughed, "I actually do know. You see, insurance companies pay out more for living patients than for dead ones, right? Only the living rack up medical expenses that keep coming. And in emergencies, every second counts, so sometimes the insurance companies will pay ambulances to take longer routes to delay treatment and increase the mortality rate."

"Wow," Ian whistled.

He continued, "Get those guys in the ambulance sunk, but before that, I want evidence that they were bribed by the insurance company."

He didn't need to do this himself; he could leave it to Crips.

"Sure thing, boss," Crips agreed enthusiastically.

*****

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