The door to the ICU burst open.
A man strode in, flanked by Secret Service agents and military aides. He was in his late fifties, wearing a suit despite the early hour, his bearing military-straight despite his civilian clothes. His face was hard, experienced, the face of someone who'd made decisions that cost lives and learned to live with the consequences.
Thomas Bradford, United States Secretary of Defense.
He'd been woken thirty minutes ago with reports of an unauthorized helicopter landing at Manhattan Presbyterian, piloted by someone with apparent access to classified military systems. He'd been shown the satellite interface Zhou Yuxi had displayed, had listened to the captain's shaken report, and had decided this required his personal attention.
He walked into room 714 with the confidence of someone accustomed to being the most powerful person in any room.
And he saw a young woman—barely more than a girl
