Chapter 34

“Let’s just see how you’re doing,” said the doctor in that jovial tone all physicians must learn in medical school. He prodded and palpated, wringing grunts of discomfort from Nikoloz as he examined the bruised shoulder and hip. Dr. Franks pulled out a notebook. “Now, do you feel up to answering some questions?”

Nikoloz restrained the urge to show the man some of his favorite one-handed karate moves. Instead, he glanced at his partner. Vincent had one of those grins on his face—the one you’d expect to see on the face of a young boy with a water pistol. “Doc,” he said, “remember what I said about my partner being off limits? Don’t make me throw you through the door.”

Nikoloz grabbed a bottle of cola from the tray. “I promise to write up my experience once I return to San Francisco,” he said. “I will see that you get a copy.”

Dr. Franks shot Vincent a disgusted look. “That will be satisfactory. You agents have no appreciation of the medical arts.”