Peter Choi did not like going under the knife.
I heard his screaming from the room where I was sitting with Dr. Haresh. I stood up immediately. He stood too, which told me that he was nearly as suprised as I was that a patient would be freaking out.
“Don’t worry about that.” He lied, “Sometimes patients can be extreme and become frightened easily by the prospect of surgical work.”
I didn’t respond. Instead I moved towards the door opening it quickly to see who was out there. The space outside of Dr. Haresh’s office could be described as an office bullpen. Four nurses worked inside of a space bordered on each end by a high arced divider that served double duty as a counter. I could see Peter Choi on the far side of the bullpen. Two men dressed in suits were struggling to hold him and calm him down. Peter was short and visibly elven. His skin tone held a bluish tint I’d never seen before. He was red faced and screaming profanities at the men, interspersed with bits of dialogue. I could make out “This is not what I agreed to” and “I won’t do it!”
That was enough for me to realize whatever I was being paid to stop was about to start.
Let me be clear. I am no hero. I’m not Jaron BlackStar on your Saturday night shadwrunner trid. I’m more like that guy in the commercials for the MCT Commlink. No, not the one choosing his phone. The other one. The guy off to the left who looks like he’s freaked out to be caught on the trid and immediately dips out. I prefer the kind of physical confrontations that I know are coming but the other guy doesn’t. So, this was exactly my kind of fight.