Aerospace Tycoon Tried to Kill My Patient, But I Saved Him and Exposed His Deadly Secret

The Reckoning

With a sudden, explosive surge of adrenaline, Maya lunged. Her mud-streaked forearm slammed into the defibrillator paddles, sending them clattering across the marble floor. Dropping to her knees, she pried open the boy's eyelid, her movements precise and urgent. "Shock him and his heart will rupture," she commanded, her voice a thunderous whisper. "This isn't cardiac arrest, it's synthetic aerospace batrachotoxin leaking from your fuel thrusters!" Dubois stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock, veins bulging in his neck as holographic monitors shrieked flatline warnings. Maya’s steady hands tore open a weathered leather roll, snapping the neck of an atropine-oxime ampoule. She plunged the auto-injector into the boy's carotid sheath. "Thirty seconds until complete respiratory necrosis... counter-agent deploying now!" she stated with breathless intensity. As the boy's convulsing arched spine suddenly relaxed, Maya stood tall. She deliberately ground her boot heel onto Dubois's dropped clipboard. "Bill the governor your seven-figure fee, specialist—then wire every cent to my rural clinic," she declared, her voice icy and devastating. Dubois trembled, his pride shattered, his platinum pen clattering uselessly on the wet floor, a symbol of his utter humiliation. The fight, however, was far from over; this was just the first blow in a battle against corporate negligence and greed.