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Two Hours to Save a National Hero Novel Cover

Two Hours to Save a National Hero

A doctor's race against time turns into a nightmare in Two Hours to Save a National Hero. While transporting a donor heart for a critical transplant, he is intercepted at a train station after his brother-in-law, Edward Austin, falsely accuses him of smuggling black-market drugs. Surrounded by armed police, the protagonist must choose between opening the sterile case or saving a national hero. With only two hours left, any delay or contamination means certain death for the recipient.
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Chapter 5

Edward continued, "Sara told me if you wouldn't listen to reason, we'd have to do it the hard way. You're suspended, and your reputation is completely trashed. That apartment is useless to you now.

"Just sign the papers, transfer the deed over to my name, and I'll withdraw the report. I'll even help you clear your name online. If you don't…"

He flashed his phone. On the screen was a screenshot from his earlier live stream, capturing me kneeling on the floor, my face covered in dirt and tears.

"If you don't sign, these pictures go straight into your hospital's group chats. When that happens, you won't just be banned from surgery. Public backlash alone will drown you alive."

I clenched my fists so hard that my fingernails dug deep into my palms.

So that was it.

From the very beginning, Edward never cared about reporting drugs. His target was never the cooler. It was the apartment I had spent ten years of my salary saving up for.

In his eyes, that 72-year-old man and the heart that would've saved his life were nothing but leverage to force my hand.

"Edward, do you have any idea that you killed someone today? Do you have any concept of how important he was?" I asked.

Edward rolled his eyes, utterly annoyed. "Alright, cut the useless crap. Are you signing or not?

"If you're not, I'm leaving. Before I go, I'll start another live stream. This time, I'll say you don't just smuggle drugs; you take bribes under the table from patients' families—"

Suddenly, the heavy iron door of the interrogation room was violently thrown open. The hinges let out a piercing screech.

Down the hallway, the sound of dense, synchronized footsteps thundered toward us.

Those weren't dress shoes. They were combat boots.

The noise grew closer and louder, deafeningly intense. The very walls of the interrogation room seemed to vibrate with the force of it.

Startled, Edward dropped his cup of coffee. The liquid splashed all over his pants. "What the hell is going on out there?"

An instant later, a dozen special forces operators burst into the room, fully equipped with body armor and night-vision goggles, their weapons loaded.

Tactical flashlights mounted on their rifles swept beams of piercing light across the walls.

"Nobody move! Hands behind your heads!"

The interrogator and Edward were immediately slammed face-first onto the ground.

A soldier quickly shielded me, moving me to the corner of the room.

The commanding officer strode in behind them. He wore a pristine military uniform, a single gold star gleaming on his shoulder epaulet.

A brigadier general.

His eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

His gaze swept across the interrogation room and locked onto the metal tray on the desk.

As he stared at the heart—now a dull, dark purple and completely ruined—his spine went stiff.

Then, he turned around. His eyes scanned the people in the room, finally landing dead on Edward.

"Was it you?" His voice was low, vibrating with suppressed fury.

Pinned to the floor with his face pressed against the tile, Edward's eyes darted around frantically. "W-who the hell are you guys? What kind of stunt is this? Let me go! I'm calling the cops!"

The general walked over to him and crouched down. He spoke through clenched teeth. "Are you the one who kicked the cooler?"

Edward craned his neck, still defiant. "Yeah, I kicked it! So what? There were drugs in that box! I did you guys a favor by reporting him!"

The general closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were rimmed red.

He stood up and faced the entire interrogation room. Every single word he spoke struck like a hammer.

"The recipient of that heart was Professor Michael Ellis. He was a professor at Calenor Academy of Engineering, a recipient of the National Merit Medal for his contributions to our nuclear and satellite programs, and a winner of the nation's highest science and technology lifetime achievement award.

"Professor Ellis dedicated his entire life to this country. Yet, 15 minutes ago, he passed away on the operating table because this heart never arrived."

He turned around and stared at Edward's coffee-stained face. "It was you. You killed Professor Ellis!"

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