Jesse and Suitcase were leaning against the Explorer, watching as Benedict Morrow and his staff escorted a number of Golden Horizons residents and their possessions to waiting vehicles.

They were just about to leave when Morrow, accompanied by Chuck Dempsey, approached them.

“Stone,” Morrow said.

Jesse nodded.

“I want you to know that you’ve cost me my job,” Morrow said.

“Heavens,” Jesse said.

“You and your team of cronies.”

“Cronies.”

“That’s right. There was no reason for them to inspect us like that, much less close us down.”

“You’re dead wrong about that, Binky. You should have been closed down for mistreating your patients, but you and your team of cronies managed to slime out of that one.”

Jesse noticed that a handful of attendants had come outside and were standing around, watching.

“We’ve got a bone to pick with you, Stone,” Morrow said.

Three of the attendants took a few steps closer to Jesse and Suitcase.

“You aren’t threatening me, are you, Binky,” Jesse said.

“We want to show our appreciation for all that you did for us,” Morrow said. “Don’t we, boys.”

Jesse looked at Morrow and his goons.

“If I were you, I’d step away and leave it,” Jesse said to them.

“But you’re not us,” Morrow said.

“I guess there’s a positive in everything,” Jesse said.

He turned to Suitcase and said, “Suit, may I please borrow your nightstick?”

“You sure may,” Suitcase said.

He removed the truncheon from his service belt and tossed it lightly to Jesse, who caught it and, in one swift motion, stepped in front of Binky Morrow, extended his arm, and rammed the nightstick directly into his midsection, knocking the wind from him and likely breaking a couple of his ribs at the same time. Morrow’s eyes widened in disbelief, then he fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

One of the attendants charged. He lowered his head and ran directly at Jesse. As though he were fighting a bull, Jesse sidestepped the charging man, and as he swept past him, Jesse slammed the nightstick into his back. The attendant screamed and dropped as though he’d been shot.

“Have you something you’d like to add to this, Chuckie,” Jesse said to Chuck Dempsey.

“I’d like to see how tough you are without that nightstick in your hand,” Dempsey said.

“I’d be delighted to show you,” Jesse said.

He tossed the truncheon back to Suitcase. Dempsey glared at him and assumed a boxer’s stance. He went into a crouch and danced toward Jesse on the balls of his feet, his fists held high.

“You’re sure you don’t want to rethink this,” Jesse said.

Dempsey flicked a left jab aimed at Jesse’s chin. It missed. He followed his left with a right cross that succeeded only in stirring the air. Once Dempsey had committed to the right cross, Jesse took the opportunity to step inside it and land two solid blows to Dempsey’s midsection. Dempsey grunted and backed away.

Jesse pursued him and launched another right to Dempsey’s stomach that connected heavily and caused him to wobble unsteadily. He attempted to recover. He backed away from Jesse, who was now stalking him.

Breathing hard, Dempsey weakly flicked another jab that landed harmlessly. Still backing away, flatfooted and shaken, he gathered in his elbows and put his fists in front of his face, so as to ward off anything else Jesse might throw at him.

Jesse followed with a volley of punches aimed at Dempsey’s kidneys. Each of them connected. Each of them hurt. Dempsey became infuriated. He launched a hard right that Jesse deflected with his left forearm.

Then Jesse hammered his right hand into Dempsey’s midsection, staggering him. He doubled over in pain and dropped his guard. He struggled for breath. His arms hung listlessly at his sides.

Seeing the opening, Jesse put his entire body into a hard right to Dempsey’s jaw. The sound of the jaw fracturing was like a shotgun blast. It filled the air with the horrifying certainty that the victim would not only be facing immeasurable suffering, but also the likelihood that the ruined bone would never be properly functional again.

Dempsey’s legs began to wobble comically. He stared at Jesse for a moment, then his eyes glazed over and he collapsed.

Jesse looked around at the other attendants who had been watching.

“Anyone else,” he said.

No one made a move.

“Your associates here will be needing some medical attention,” Jesse said.

No one said anything. No one moved.

“Best if it were sooner rather than later.”

Still no one moved. Jesse shrugged. Then he looked at Suitcase and tossed him the car keys.

“You drive,” he said.

They got into the Explorer and drove off.

“Why did you throw me the keys,” Suitcase said.

“I may have busted my hand.”

“Really?”

“Hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“It was a great punch,” Suitcase said.

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you could box.”

“I don’t box. I fight.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Rules.”

“You want to do something about your hand?”

“Nah,” Jesse said.

“You sure?”

“I’ll soak it in some ice water. That should do it.”

“It was a great punch,” Suitcase said.

“It was, wasn’t it,” Jesse said.

“What’ll happen to them?”

“Eventually they’ll grow old and die.”

“Come on, Jesse. You know what I mean.”

“They’ll get other jobs in the same industry. Possibly even with Amherst.”

“How will they do that?”

“There are plenty of places that don’t respect the patients’ bill of rights. Places that are in it only for the money. These guys are just the kind of unscrupulous employees that owners like Philip Connell are on the lookout for.”

“So they’ll do it again?”

“They will.”

“And they’ll get away with it again.”

“Most likely.”

Suitcase didn’t say anything.

“But they won’t do it here,” Jesse said.