Chapter 13
"so what happened to them"
Christian didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
And that was the problem.
"We should ask them," Cassian said.
"Can't go tonight," Junior said, checking his phone. "It's past midnight."
"Doctor's not gonna answer his door at 1 AM," Cassian agreed.
"Our place," Cassian said. "You can crash there."
[Drive to Cassian's house]
The house was quiet. Parents asleep.
Cassian led them downstairs.
The basement had been converted. Weights. Mats. Punching bag.
"Your dad built this?" Christian asked.
"Yeah," Cassian said. "He wanted us to have somewhere to train."
Junior tossed Christian a towel.
"Couch pulls out. You good here?"
Christian nodded.
He sat down. First time he'd stopped moving in—how long?
"Get some sleep," Cassian said. "Tomorrow we find out what happened to those doctors."
The lights went out.
Christian lay there in the dark.
Staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow they'd get answers.
He hoped.
[Drive to Kessler's apartment/house]
[Knock on door]
[Kessler answers—recognizes Christian immediately]
Kessler's face went pale.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quietly.
"I need to talk to you," Christian said.
"There's nothing to talk about."
Kessler started to close the door.
Cassian put his hand on it. Held it open.
"Five minutes," Cassian said.
Not a request.
[Kessler lets them in—reluctantly]
[Conversation begins]
"What happened to you?" Christian asked. "The investigation. The suspension."
Kessler didn't answer immediately.
"It went away," he said finally.
"How?"
Kessler looked at him. Tired eyes. Defeated.
"Rask helped. Made calls. Fixed things."
"Why?"
"Because he needed surgeons. Good ones."
Christian's stomach tightened.
"And in exchange?"
Kessler didn't need to say it.
The answer was obvious.
"You do the surgeries he wants," Christian said quietly. "No questions."
Kessler nodded.
—--
They stood on the sidewalk.
Silent.
"So that's how it works," Junior said finally.
Christian nodded.
"He doesn't kill you. He saves you. Then owns you."
"Acquisition over attrition," Cassian said quietly.
Christian looked at him.
"What?"
"Business term," Cassian said. "My dad uses it. Better to acquire talent than waste it."
Christian felt sick.
Because that's exactly what Rask was doing.
Acquiring.
Not destroying.
Using.