"I’m paying you and you’ll do what I damned well tell you to!" Geraint yelled furiously, his face reddening in anger. He rarely lost his cool, but when he did the Celtic temperament was fearsome to behold. Streak stared back at him defiantly, and then gently put the patch on the man’s throat. Within seconds, the cocktail of opiate, endorphin, and anti-trauma colloids was surging through his jugular, into his heart, and spreading sweet relief into the tortured flesh of his leg. Geraint knelt down to see how he was.