The ceiling fan whirred feebly, emitting a grating groan as it struggled to turn. Pushing open the door, Heather's gaze fell upon the figure behind the counter.,Yes, if we just leave him there, by morning he'll probably only be found as remains on an illegal black market surgeon's operating table.,The menacing muzzle of the gun pointed straight at Jack's red, bloated nose. The old man immediately raised his hands in surrender.。