The President dug his calloused fingertips into the outside groove of Lindsay’s elbow. Even past the anesthetic, pain knifed through the crushed nerves. His hand jumped slightly, releasing the grip. "I felt that, just a little," he said calmly. There was something he could do with pain, if the vasopressin would help him remember...There. The pain transformed itself, lost its color, became something nastily close to pleasure.