Nathan was already feeling better. It felt good to be doing something, to have a plan and work toward a goal. And it was a worthy goal. The Bridgestones were going to be hunted down like the rabid dogs they were. A reckoning was coming, coming like a freight train with its engine roaring and horn blaring. Those two turds had no idea of the wrath they’d brought upon themselves.

Harv ordered room service and asked for it to be delivered next door in Nathan’s room. A few minutes later, Harv answered a soft knock at the door. Carrying a first-aid kit, the maintenance man strode into the room, tools hanging from his belt. At the bathroom door, he looked at the broken glass covering the countertop and floor, looked at Nathan sitting on the bed, looked at the bloody hand and the damaged face it belonged to, and decided silence was the best course of action. He handed the first-aid kit to Harvey.

“How long do you need?” Harvey asked.

The maintenance man shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”

Harvey pulled a couple of butterfly bandages out of the kit and applied them to Nathan’s knuckles. He wrapped a couple layers of gauze around the wound and secured it with white tape on the palm side, opposite the cuts.

“Thanks,” Nathan said.

“Think nothing of it.”

With the maintenance man in the bathroom, Harv transferred their duffel bag containing their Sig Sauer pistol belts, night-vision visors, and other tools into Nathan’s room through the adjoining door.

After Harv returned, Nathan said, “We’d better make that call to Ortega. The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“How do you do it, Harv? Keep your cool.”

“Like I said, you beat me to it. That mirror was doomed from the day it was installed.”

“I’ve never seen you break anything.”

“That’s just it, you’ve never seen it. I once beat the living daylights out of a lawn mower with an aluminum bat. It was brand new and gassed up. But the damned thing wouldn’t start. I must have pulled that cord a hundred times before I took the bat to it. Candace came out to the lawn and without saying a word, handed me the instruction manual. She reached down and turned the gas shutoff valve to the on position, winked at me, and then walked away.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Candace.”

“I have to admit, it felt great smashing that mower. Come on, let’s get this call over with.”

“Harv, I’ll make the call to Ortega.”

“No. I should do it. You’re in no shape to talk to Ortega right now. Honestly, it’s my responsibility. I got us into this, I’ll make the call.”