Evans, running on instinct and the sheer force of Sarge’s command, rubbed the baby’s back while she lay against the veteran.

Ten seconds of pure terror. Then the baby coughed — a huge, sputtering gasp — and the blue faded from her lips, replaced by an angry red as she began to cry.

The heart monitor climbed back into safe range, the oxygen numbers rising.

Sarge sank back into the chair, the baby clutched to his heart, and pulled her back into the rhythm of his breathing. Within two minutes she was asleep again.

The room was dead silent but for the hum of the machines.

He looked up at Sterling, his face pale, sweat dripping from his chin, his muscles trembling from the adrenaline.