Pain came first. A deep, burning ache in his chest that seemed to pulse with each heartbeat. Then sounds filtered in, the steady beep of machines, the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum, hushed voices just beyond his reach.

Herod Preston opened his eyes.

The hospital room swam into focus slowly. White ceiling. Blue curtains. Clear tubes running into his arms. And a man in a dark suit sitting beside his bed, watching him with tired ...