In the van, John opened his eyes.
He was lying on a bench seat in the darkness when a voice called out.
“Hey, rise and shine!”
John groaned an sat up.
The two men in black suits were in the front of the van, one driving.
“So? Anything?” asked the man in the passenger seat.
“No.” said John. “No dissension there. I’ve known Matty since primary school, he’s too passive to try anything. The barkeeper didn’t make a sound. Probably thinks we have the whole place bugged or something. Damn this headache…”
He looked up. “Edan, what percentage are we working at?”
The driver glanced back.
“43%,” he said casually.
“43%!?” John yelped. "We’re only supposed to be using it at 31%! You could’ve put me out for an hour!’
Edan laughed.
“Yes, well, we all know you’ve a tolerance for chemicals in the bloodstream. That’s why you’re the one hangin’ about in the pub boozin’ and rabble-rousin’, not us.”
John sighed.
“Six pints of Guinness every two hours, plus the injections. I’ll need a new liver by 30. Where to next?”