'Caribbean' cruise ship, medical office.
It's been over a dozen hours since the terrorist attack last night.
The glaring lights overhead shone down as Professor Amir Khan slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and his head felt heavy.
The hurried footsteps and whispered conversations of medical staff filled his ears. It felt as though a heavy stone was crushing his consciousness, making his thoughts fragmented and incoherent.
He tried to lift his hand but had no idea where it even was.
Several federal agents in black uniforms with 'FBI' emblazoned on their chests stood beside the bed, staring at him with cold eyes.
"Professor, can you hear me?" One of the agents leaned in, his voice low and serious.
Professor Amir Khan opened his mouth, but his throat was so dry that he couldn't make a sound.
He vaguely remembered losing a lot of money in the cruise ship's casino last night, feeling frustrated, and then... everything else became a blur.
