Mr. Fermi led Kyle Ross into a dim room. Fermi pointed to a lone chair and Ross slowly sat in it. “Mr. Ross, Ms. Bloom is in the ICU. Before we admit you, there are some things we must discuss.” Sweat dripped from Fermi’s forehead.

“Precisely.” A tall figure stepped out of the shadows. “You may leave us now.”

Fermi quaked a smile and left. Breucker dragged a chair from the darkness and positioned himself across from Kyle Ross. He pulled two cigarettes out of a case. “Here,” Breucker pushed one cigarette into Ross’s mouth and then lit it. “You remember me?”

Ross shook his head painfully.

“No.” Breucker sighed. “It has been three years.” Breucker lit his own cigarette. “Well, not quite. For you it would have felt like three months. But to us, it was just the same three months playing over and over again.”

Ross raised his eyes wearily. He was bleeding badly now.

“You know what you have to do. But you don’t do it. We’ve waited an awfully long time and – nothing. You’ve got to finish the job.”