Well before Marcus Macaluso raced away, even during the account of what had happened, Frank Sumner was already conjuring defensive plans that needed immediate attention and mental rehearsal. Three operatives would definitely be missed. Perhaps a broader attack might be precipitated by their combined failure to report back. Have to assume that.

Marcus was right, speed counts. Sumner knew that intellectualization could be lethal to a hemorrhaging patient. Surgeons do their thinking in advance responding reflexly to change. Surprise is not surprising, but anticipated, dealt with, quickly. Experience counts. "Who has had more experience in combat than I have?" he thought silently to himself while Marcus had been simply rambling on about loose ends. "We need intelligence." But a dread of insufficient time was superimposed on all his thinking. Tactics require intelligence and time. Intelligence requires tactics and time. Time. Time requires intelligent tactics. "We need a diversion." But, what? And then, a monumental thought followed. Having noticed something as he was fetching those leaf bags from the shed behind the outdoor barbecue, it was that observation which seeded his request for a rubber hose.

There was a piggy bank to bust and a quick trip to a pay phone as Marcus requested. He was surprised to learn who Shondra Woodrow was. He was even more concerned that her aide had determined that Shannon was the subject of more attention than Doctor Macaluso. It was she who was the lightening rod. It had something to do with legislative pressures for reform of rampant HMO denials of services. A weird murder in a suburb of Trent somehow figured in, but nobody knew how. Marcus was merely a minor annoyance, if that, fighting abuses with reviewers one by one. It was Shannon who, as an activist, was involved in so many broad legislative reform activities. She was the one who so methodically collected the data which was utterly convincing to legislators.

Evidently Teson Law School was in the loop. The connections were not known, just that strange defensive activity was emanating from there. Professor Dryfus took an unexpected sabbatical, calling in regrets from Venezuela. None of this helped Frank. "What does Teson have to do with Amerimed?" he flustered. He was told that a certain Mister Price had large holdings in Amerimed and was a major fund benefactor for Teson. More importantly, a Mister Johnson, a man with many off shore banking companies of dubious integrity and with island and South American holdings and who had very close dealings with Amerimed and controlled the board of trustees at Teson, is thought to be missing. It was discovered that he had a certain private detective on his payroll.

"Let me guess, the guy at Trent?".

"Yup."

"Jesus!" Most concerning, however, Shannon did not answer her page. "Irish, answer damn it! Come on." He tried the clinic directly. "Peggy, this is Doctor Sumner, is Shannon there?"

"Hi Doctor Sumner. No, she left for an emergency meeting at the insurance commissioner's office. Something about getting her records reviewed? She was quite upset."

"Did she take anything with her?"

"No. I didn't see her with anything but that notebook she always carries. You can page her. If she's near a phone.."

"No. She's not answering..."

"She may have it off."

"OK," hanging up. He took a deep breath, looking blankly around, "Time to clean up." Macaluso had been surprisingly neat under the circumstances. Avoided getting blood on all the rugs. There was not that much to do. Not here.

Looking at the back of his Explorer, he thought that maybe he should change his plates. That took only a minute. He rummaged various closets for anything that might prove handy, checked the attic pulling things to rights, returned to the garage, packed his Ford Explorer with the bathtub rubber hose shower attachment, a garden hose from the garage, tools from the workshop, duct tape, and the propane tank that was sitting next to the barbecue. "Good. A full spare. Saves a step. Time to cook." He went back upstairs with the Venture tool kit and took apart Macaluso's television and thought, "I always wanted to screw up a TV.."