David Sarif saw himself as a practical man. He held stock in science, what could be seen and proven, what could be calculated and understood by logic. But even he had to admit there was something magical happening before him.
He was standing in the darkened observation suite of the surgical wing in Sarif Industries, the company he had built from the ground up. It had been well over thirty-six hours since they had suffered an attack from some unknown black ops group, led by three heavily augmented soldiers. In their wake they had left several dead; only a few were fortunate enough to be alive and wounded, and five of Sarif's top scientists were missing without a trace.
And now Sarif's head of security, Adam Jensen, lay in the operating room as the CEO watched. Two doctors and a nurse, the second of three teams working in shifts, hovered over the ex-cop, feverishly working with a multi-armed medbot. Working, not to save Adam's life-that part was already secured four hours ago-but to turn