They all planned and converged in an old warehouse thirty miles away from the city. Carol was already there with Wrench. She'd stopped the bleeding but he looked terrible. His face was pale. Sweating. Breathing like he'd just run five miles.

"He needs a hospital," Carol said when they walked in.

"Can't do it," Dominic said. "Cops will be checking for gunshot wounds tonight."

"Then he needs that doctor again. The one who fixes people off the books."

Dominic got his phone out. Made the call. ...