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His attention sharpens. “You suspect the doctors?”
“I suspect anyone who had access to me.” The monitor beside me begins beeping faster, and I ignore it. “The attacker knew I reached surgery alive.”
A warning light flashes near the bed, but the rhythm steadies when I ease my breathing.
“Belov came himself to confirm the outcome.” My breath catches, then returns in short pulls.
A nurse wearing a blue cap marked SeverMed appears at the door. “Time’s up.”
“Get out,” Maksim says.
The nurse tries to protest, then thinks better and leaves. I watch the SeverMed logo disappear through the doorway. The name bothers me. I’m certain there’s a reason I should remember it, but Belov and Vera are already demanding what remains of my attention.
Vera Markova may have seen too much.
“Find out whether anyone contacted Markova around the operation,” I say.
Maksim’s forehead creases. “Her background?”
“Calls, debts, and family.”
He studies me. “She saved your life.”
“That makes her a target.”
If Belov knew she’d seen or heard him, he would kill her.
Dmitri sends the instructions and lowers his phone. “Kirill has already started on the hospital. An internal user tried to access Markova’s personnel file twice this morning.”
“From where?” Maksim asks.
“An administrative account. The credentials were stolen.”
“Put her under watch.”
Maksim studies me. “Without approaching her?”
“For now.” I close my eyes until the ceiling stops moving.
Dmitri slips his phone into his pocket. “You’re protective of your surgeon.”
“She restarted my heart with her hands.” I try to smile, then swallow against the rawness in my throat. “Find who opened her file. Then I’ll thank her with flowers or gunfire.”
“Send both,” Dmitri says. “It saves time.”
The monitor changes pace when I shift against the mattress, and pain drives through my chest. I wait for it to pass, which takes longer than I’d prefer. Maksim sees it because he sees everything, although he’s got enough dignity not to tell me to lie down while I’m already lying down.
Dmitri’s phone vibrates. He reads the message once, and the humor leaves his face.
“What?” I ask.
“Kirill found a flag attached to Markova’s record.”
I hold out my hand. “Hospital disciplinary?”
“No. It’s worse.”
He turns the screen toward Maksim first. Maksim reads it and looks at me, but neither man speaks quickly enough.