Ayress eyes narrowed at him over his mask. Explain yourself.

His tone was imperious. It made Morgan grind his teeth. He got it. Really, he did. Surgeons have to be cocky. They have to have courage of their convictions. They make a lot of tough calls and everything they do carries a certain amount of risk.

He didnt have to like them, though, and he often didnt. He took a deep breath and blew it out, willing himself to remain calm. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the beeping of the monitors tracking Vincenzos heart and respiration.

The scrub nurse had made it around Lexa. Im sorry, Dr. Ayres. He got past me.

Ayres held up the hand that wasnt holding the scalpel. Its okay, Malik. Lets hear what Dr. Stark has to say for himself. He turned back toward Morgan. Well?

Vincenzo Rohr has a relatively rare genetic disorder. Fibromuscular dysplasia. Its likely what caused the aneurysm and the ones before it. Morgan finished tying the surgical mask around his face with practiced fingers and walked a few more steps toward the table where Vincenzo lay motionless.

Shaking his head before Morgan could get any closer, Ayres said, No. That doesnt make any sense. Hes had two prior successful aneurysm clippings. If he had fibromuscular dysplasia he would have bled out during one of those.

Not necessarily, Morgan took another step in. Hed pull the damn scalpel out of Ayress hand if he had to. With each subsequent insult to those arterial walls, his chances of a good outcome go down. Hes been lucky so far, but theres no guarantee hell be lucky a third time. Look at the numbers. The time between his second and third aneurysms is about half the time between the first and the second. His condition is getting worse. The arterial walls are getting weaker.

Ayres lowered the hand that held the scalpel with an irritating slowness. How sure are you about this? Because Im pretty sure that aneurysm is going to blow soon.

Im very sure. Morgan glanced over his shoulder to check on Lexa. Her ponytail was a little askew, but she seemed otherwise unharmed by her skirmish with Malik even if he was easily four inches taller and forty pounds heavier. Sure enough that I was going to let my resident tackle your scrub nurse so I could get in here to stop you from doing this procedure.

The anesthesiologist snorted. Ayres threw her a look and the woman turned her attention to her instruments. Ayres never had much of a sense of humor. He put the scalpel back on the tray, though. That was all Morgan really wanted, to get that knife away from Vincenzos head so there was a chance he could watch his two-year-old daughter grow up.

Ayres gestured at his team. Get Rohr into recovery. Then he turned back to Morgan. Lets go figure out how to save this mans life, then.