A knock on the door made Jack panic.
Anson couldn't help but chuckle.
Anson wanted to say that this was his hospital room, and as long as he permitted it, no one would blame Jack. But Jack had already dashed into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him like a real thief.
The scene before him caused Anson's lips to curl upward.
Creak.
The door to the hospital room opened, and Lucas's tall figure appeared.
Seeing that Anson was awake, Lucas asked in a deep voice, "Why aren't you resting?"
Anson was speechless. "I've been resting, okay? But what about you? Aren't you supposed to be working?"
Lucas responded, "I've been working, okay? Taking a few days off isn't a bad thing." He shot back with the same tone.
Anson replied, "There's no need, really. I can take care of myself..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Lucas shot him a sharp look. Anson, not one to back down, glared back, but the rest of his words trailed off.
Lucas nodded with satisfaction, "I think it's going to happen in the next day or two."
Anson asked, "Are you sure?"
Lucas replied, "Yeah. For the past two days, several people have been lurking nearby, trying to figure out the security shift patterns."
"I know time is money for them, and they're racing against the clock. They can't wait much longer, so it's either today or tomorrow."
"I've already given orders for one of the security guards to slack off on purpose, maybe take a longer bathroom or smoke break. It doesn't need to be long—just one or two minutes is enough to create an opening."
"They'll take the bait."
No wonder!
Jack had just slipped in without any trouble. He must have timed it perfectly during that window.
Anson nodded, "Alright, I'll be ready."
Lucas wasn't convinced, "Why don't you switch rooms? I'll stay here and deal with them."
Anson laughed, "There's no need, really. You should trust me. They're not worth worrying about."
Lucas's face darkened. "It's those same worthless guys that got you hurt..."
Seeing Lucas about to start nagging again, Anson quickly changed the subject, "By the way, I've got a friend I want to introduce to you. Remember that young guy we ran into at the San Francisco theater?"
Anson was about to call Jack out of hiding to introduce him to Lucas, but he was interrupted again by another knock at the door—this was the third time that afternoon.
Things were getting lively.
Anson glanced at Lucas, silently asking with a look.
Lucas got the message and mouthed, "There's no one at the door right now."
So, could it be the target they had been waiting for?
Knock knock.
The knocking came again.
There was only knocking, no words. The sound was soft, like a thief, not wanting to wake the sleeping beauty inside, just testing the waters. The knock itself seemed sneaky.
The two brothers exchanged a quick look.
Lucas moved to the corner of the room, sitting on the sofa, blending into the shadows and staying silent.
The room quickly fell into silence.
Knock knock.
The knocking came a third time.
This time, without waiting too long, as soon as there was no response from inside, the person outside pushed the door open and quickly slipped in, pushing a cart. They softly and quickly closed the door behind them.
Turning around, the vibrant sunset poured in, filling the room with a soft, bright atmosphere. You could see Anson lying in bed, seemingly fast asleep.
Just as expected.
People often think that the best time to commit a crime is under the cover of night, but in reality, daytime can be even more unexpected.
Choosing dusk made sense because, after a long hot afternoon, fatigue often makes people drop their guard just before dinner.
At this moment, it was the perfect time to sneak into the hospital room.
In reality, it wasn't like a Hollywood movie. Even though there was a tight security net around Anson's room, this intruder still found a gap.
Heh, it seems Anson's injury dulled his senses. This was his best chance to turn the tables.
The intruder knew he was walking a moral tightrope, lurking in a gray area, but he couldn't resist the thrill. The voice of temptation whispered constantly in his ear.
"Everyone does it. There's no need to feel guilty, and definitely no need to feel bad. If it's not you, someone else will seize the opportunity."
"So why shouldn't it be you?"
"Besides, have you forgotten all the humiliation and frustration? Every time you faced Anson, you came out defeated, humiliated, even traumatized. Now's your chance for revenge—are you really going to let it slip by?"
"After all, Anson isn't really paralyzed, right?"
Those evil thoughts took root and quickly grew into a towering tree, beyond his control.
Not only was he ready to take advantage of the situation, but he also planned to strike back—tenfold, a hundredfold for all the times he'd been played.
Everything was going according to plan.
Moving stealthily, the figure reached the foot of the bed and pulled a camera out of the bag hidden under the cart.
To disguise himself, he had changed into a nurse's uniform, blending in as a staff member at Mount Sinai Hospital, pushing a cart just like Ethan Hunt in "Mission Impossible."
He took out his camera and began searching for the right angle—
Taking a secret photo wasn't just about capturing a shot; it had to be the perfect composition, proof of his skill, to show he had everything under control.
He could already imagine it—the other paparazzi and journalists marveling at his work. Soon, he would become the king of the paparazzi.
A smile crept onto his face. He was so excited, his hands were trembling. He couldn't remember the last time he felt such a rush—was it his first job as a paparazzo?
Finally, he found the right angle.
This time, he didn't forget to turn off the flash. With the room filled with golden sunset light, there was no need for it anyway. He was confident he'd capture a masterpiece.
But just as he aimed the camera at Anson and prepared to focus, he realized—
Anson was also holding a camera, a Polaroid, pointing right back at him.
Wait, what?
Before he could process it, the next moment, he saw the smile on Anson's face, curving into a perfect arc in the orange glow.
"Three, two, one, cheese!"
Click.
Anson pressed the shutter first, capturing the moment.
The intruder stood frozen, completely dumbfounded.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing? What just happened?
Everything felt blurry and confusing.
Just a moment ago, things were under his control.
The next moment, his world had flipped upside down.
For a second, his brain couldn't keep up. His shaking pupils and the fact he'd forgotten to press his own shutter revealed his true thoughts.
Then, Anson smiled and waved, "Hey, Kevin."