Page 166 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
"So this explains the mysterious 'consulting work'." I watch him recheck settings on the cardiac monitor he'd used to save my life. My hands won't stay still, so I fidget with my hoodie zipper.
"Only partially." He picks up the specialized injector, examining it more carefully this time. "I needed to keep you alive before. Didn't have time to appreciate the setup."
That's typical Miguel, understated even when impressed. He walks through the room step by step, medical training taking over as he notes every detail.
"The cardiac equipment is modified military-grade." I bounce on my toes. "And the neuro-monitoring system has custom modifications I helped design after..."
I trail off. Don't want to revisit those foggy days when my brain felt shredded from inside.
Miguel's eyes soften as he sets down the equipment. "After you nearly died."
Remy clears his throat, stepping forward. "Which is why we need someone we trust. Field operations require immediate medical response. You proved yourself under extreme pressure."
My brother's expression grows serious. "What happens when you're on mission? Who covers trauma care then?"
Warmth floods through me. Of course, Kuya Migs cuts straight to the logistics, even while getting recruited by people who could probably end him in seventeen different ways.
"That's why we need you." Remy's tone stays neutral but respectful. "Triple your hospital salary. Better hours than the ER. Most importantly, cutting-edge medical technology to make real difference."
Miguel raises an eyebrow, looking around once more. Numbers flicker behind his stare as he weighs the danger against the advantages, the moral complications.
Then his serious expression cracks into a smile. "So you're saying this job won't be 'terminal' like the ER?"
I groan dramatically, covering my face. "This is what you're getting yourself into, Saint."
Remy's lips twitch with unexpected amusement. He recovers quickly, but I catch it.
Miguel continues examining the facility, pausing at the trauma bay where I was treated. His fingers trace the bed edge where he'd fought to save my life.
"After everything you saw, the attack on Vanessa, how we operate, you kept your mouth shut." Remy examines my brother with fresh respect.
Miguel straightens his shoulders, expression turning professional. "Confidentiality is something I take seriously." He extends his hand toward Remy. "I accept."
My heart does a little flip of relief. Having Kuya Migs here feels like anchoring my old life to this new reality.
An hour later, the mission planning zone on B4 feels different today. More complete.
Maybe because I've rearranged the data feeds to match my brain patterns. Or maybe because my brother stands among Asher's team, studying the holographic display with the same intensity he brings to complicated medical cases.
I tap fingers against the digital table edge, bringing up a 3D image of the Velocity Racing Circuit.
"Your primary target is the communications hub under the pit area." I explain to Jax, who leans against the wall in his signature relaxed pose. "Your connection with Kane should get you close enough during driver briefings—about eight minutes of access."
Jax nods, easy confidence masking the danger. "Eight minutes is plenty. I once rewired an entire Lamborghini electrical system in less."
"This isn't just about speed."
I pull up the network architecture I've mapped. "Their security protocols change every forty-three minutes. I've programmed these wireless packets to adapt."
I slide three tiny devices across the table—each barely bigger than a thumbnail. "You need to place them within twenty meters of any terminal to bridge their secure network."
Jax pockets the devices with a wink. "So I just charm my way into the right places."
I roll my eyes at his easy flirtation. Not attraction—Jax is like a fun older brother. But Asher stiffens behind me, his presence turning sharp and cold.
My brother steps forward, pulling up biometric readings on a side screen.
"You need to maintain normal vitals during placement."
