“What a strange thing to ask you. What did he say when you told him you didn’t have any?”

“The truth is, I was so upset by the question and his tone, I didn’t tell him anything except that he should check with you.”

“Well, he must have worked things out, because he never mentioned it.”

“He’s worried about the germ spreading to more patients, and for that I don’t blame him. But that’s going to be after.”

“After what?” Lou asked.

“After something not so good. So, what are you doing with the FBI anyway? Are you in trouble with the law again? Good gravy, I can’t trust you anyplace. Now, don’t you go bringing any heat down on me, buddy, I’ve got enough problems to deal with as is.”

“No heat,” Vaill said. “I’m here because this germ of yours was initially discovered by some very bad people, and now the government is interested in putting them out of business.”

“It involves our friend, Humphrey,” Lou said.

“Is he bogus? He seemed like such a sweet little dude.”

“No, not bogus. Not bogus at all. He’s missing. A guy killed the aide who was getting him ready for work, and kidnapped him.”

“Ouch.”

“I know about the lab in the basement, Cap,” Vaill interjected. “The doc, here, told me about it and said he had told you as well. We think the work Miller was starting down there is why they took him.”

“Damn,” Cap muttered, clearly grasping the significance.

No miracles.

“We think we know who did this, and we’re going to find him,” Vaill said.

“Better make it quick, brother.”

The way Cap said the words was ominous.

Lou put his gloved hand on the fighter’s forehead, feeling the burn even through the latex.

“Cap, what’s going on?” he asked. “What’s the not-good thing you mentioned?”

Vaill backed up a step, giving the two friends a little more space to connect.

“It’s ugly, Lou,” Cap said, his voice coming out like the hiss of air from a punctured tire. As he did during every visit, Lou poured a cup of water from the plastic pitcher and angled the straw so Cap could take a sip.

“What do you mean ‘ugly’?”

“I mean I got some news yesterday from Puchalsky and my surgeon, and it ain’t good.”

“Talk to me, big guy, what did they say?”

“I got a few days, Lou. A week at the most.”

Cap’s voice cracked mid-sentence.

“What do you mean a week? A week for what?”