Page 21 of Hell Breaks Loose

“So maybe she just couldn’t afford him?”

“Spot on. She also said he looked like he was hurting. Sweaty. Shaky.”

“Interesting. The good doctor needs some medicine of his own. Good bargaining chip.”

“So, what do we do, call him?” Norris shrugs. “We’re getting into espionage territory, here.”

“No need to call him yet. First, I want to find out if he’s gotten any calls from out near the water, made any house calls to see Marco’s guys.”

“Or one of his guests,” Norris adds under his breath.

Hacking the cell tower nearby is a simple program.

One I’ve used before.

And what a shock. Ol’ Doc made a call to a number a few times over the past few weeks. He also got a few texts from a few different numbers asking for “checkups” at his earliest convenience.

The odds that it’s Marco’s guys making those requests is worth the risk.

It’s just past midnight when I rap on the door of Room 218 at the Dapper Inn. It’s anything but.

“The fuck you want?”

“Need… help.” I put on Jack today, a thug with a penchant for stealing.

“Fuck off. Nothing here for you.”

“Doc Ox… please. I heard you can help guys like me.” I keep my voice down, not wanting to raise any flags if some of his people are crashing at the inn.

After a long pause, the door opens a fraction, totally dark inside except for the barrel of a gun.

“I. Said. Leave.”

“I got money.”

“I don’t give a shit. Get outta here, you junkie trash.” The door starts to close…

“I’m holding.”

Pause.

“Get in here. Keep yer mouth shut.”

A lamp clicks on, bathing the ratty apartment in dull light. Wish it were darker so I wouldn’t have to see the water-stained walls, the peeling wallpaper, the carpet that’s probably more bio-material than fabric at this point.

“Sit. I’ll get my kit.”

He’s mid-fifties. Looks older in the eyes because of the drugs.

His sagging gut and jowls tell me that mimicking him won’t be easy. But I've pulled off much harder sells.

Worth a shot.

Taking a seat across from me, he spreads out his kit. It’s clean, at least. Tidy.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Got a beating a while back. Think something’s broken inside.” I suppress a cough. The flinch at the pain is far from faked.

---