The hospital was well equipped. Chase’s bed was surrounded by an array of medical machinery, and his vitals were being monitored by way of the probes and sensors that had been attached to his body. Chase had been sleeping when Milton arrived an hour earlier. Milton had spoken to a doctor, and she had explained that he was making good progress. He had lost a lot of blood, and in addition, thanks to the bullet making a mess of his lower intestine, he had been suffering from septic shock. They had performed abdominal surgery to repair the damage and had given him a massive dose of antibiotics and a fluid replacement.

Milton had seen gut shots up close. The digestive system was designed to dissolve meat. A bullet into the stomach damaged the barrier between it and the rest of the body, with the result that it started to treat internal organs like they were cheeseburgers. The doctors had had to get on top of that, then treat the septic shock from the bacteria that had been sent into places it wasn’t supposed to go, and then fix up the wound itself. Chase had been on the table for six hours and had been put into a brief coma to help kick-start his recovery. It was going to take time for him to get back on his feet.

Chase opened his eyes.

Milton pulled up a chair and sat at the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

Chase blinked, looked around the room, and frowned. “John?” he mumbled.

“That’s right.”

“Where am I?”

“Hospital.”

“Colombia?”

“Medellín,” Milton said. “You were shot. Remember?”

Chase looked down at his stomach. “Shit,” he groaned.

“How are you feeling?”

His voice was weak. “As pitiful as a three-legged dog. How long was I out?”

“A day and a half,” Milton said. “It was touch and go for a while. You lost a lot of blood and then you had sepsis. The bullet made a mess of your guts.”

“Probably why I feel as weak as a baby.”

“They’ve done a good job of patching you up. You’re over the worst of it.”

Chase tried to reach for the glass of water by his bedside and grimaced with the effort. “You sure about that?”

Milton picked up the glass and handed it to him. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Chase said.

He took a sip of the water, just enough to moisten his lips. Milton took the glass back from him and replaced it on the table.

“How long you been here?”

“The whole time,” Milton said. “There’s a hotel over the street where I stayed, but, apart from that, I’ve been here.”

“Now why would you do a fool thing like that?”

“Do you have anyone else out here to keep an eye on you?”

“Don’t suppose I have.”