The two men shared a look. “That definitely correlates to how electromagnetic pulses can override the heart. It causes cardiac distress and is often described as burning agony.”
Rook made a soft noise that tugged at the very heart they discussed.
Doing my best not to look in her direction, I snapped, “How do you propose to stop it then?”
“I might have an idea.” Roger straightened his spine, working out a crick in his neck. “Or at least, I hope I do.”
“Can you remove it, after all?”
“Oh no.” He crossed his arms with a scowl, my blood morbidly bright on his white sleeves. “It can’t be removed. Harry and I are emergency surgeons. We’re capable of dealing with all kinds of trauma, but you need a cardiologist and probably a biotech specialist to survive that kind of procedure.”
My temper steadily rose. “Then what do you propose to do about it?”
“It can’t be removed but...perhaps I can disable it.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can see what you’re thinking, Roger, but are yousureit’s frequency based?” Harry asked. “Not chemical? Because if we get that wrong, we’ll kill him.”
Roger dragged a hand down his face, rubbing away his exhaustion. “There’s no reservoir. No ports. No refill mechanism.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not drug-mediated,” Harry shot back. “Microdosing could—”
“I don’t think it is. Look at the tissue response.” He angled the floor lamp a little further down my body, spotlighting my chest. “There’s chronic inflammation but no necrosis. Whatever this thing is doing, it’s signalling, not secreting.”
Harry frowned and crouched to see from another angle. “You’re saying it’s a weaponised pacemaker?”
“Sounds rather brutal.” Roger shuddered. “However, if it’s frequency-based then—”
“It can be disrupted,” Harry cut in.
“I was thinking frying it would be better.”
Harry’s gaze lifted slowly to Roger’s. “Defibrillation?”
Roger didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at the vitalsync core, jaw set, and eyes calculating. “A high-energy pulsecouldoverload the transmitter.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Harry asked quietly.
Roger finally looked at me. “Then the current would arc through the myocardium. It would cause tissue damage and possibly induce fatal arrhythmia.”
“If you didn’t catch that,” Harry patted my bare shoulder. “It could stop your heart. Still keen to go ahead?”
“Ehhh...” Rook piped up from her spot on the floor with Whisper. “Maybe we should wait until—”
“Do it.” I refused to look at her. “I want it destroyed.”
Roger’s shoulders slumped, the weight of my choice settling in. “We’ll only get one attempt.”
“Then get it over with.”
For a second, he looked like he’d renege on his agreement but then he sighed. “Fine. But you can’t move while we work. And fair warning...all of it will hurt.”
“I’m used to pain and you have my word I’ll be as still as a corpse.”
With another heavy sigh, the doctor went to a black bag that was already packed and waiting by the exit. Rummaging for a while, he brought a bunch of tools and dumped them on the desk beside my waist.
Harry broke away, setting up whatever was required. The sounds of metal clinking and water running were the only noise as the doctors sterilised, washed up, and slipped on gloves to begin.
