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all the abortions could easily be performed at the original institution. What else did Marshall have on his mind?
    “Apparently,” Marshall continued, “Thompson’s been engaged in talks with Pinnacle.” He delivered the word “Pinnacle”as if he had lobbed a grenade into their midst. He stopped abruptly, as if he had no more to say—as if what he said was enough.
    The silence was broken by a loud snort as Ken Danowski sneezed. Ken was one of the younger members of the group, seated to Mike’s left. “Sorry,” he said, although it came out muffled through his handkerchief.
    “Oh shit! Pinnacle—that’s just great,” said Mike.
    “The turd’s in the punch bowl now,” added Raskin profoundly, eyes sparkling.
    Doug grimaced and figured this was what the emergency meeting was really all about—Pinnacle. The door opened, and Kim Burrows entered the room. She quickly headed for the empty chair next to Ken Danowski. Doug saw Kim and Ken exchanged meaningful glances. Doug knew they were the neophytes of the group and looked to each other for support.
    “Nice of you to join us, Doctor Burrows,” Marshall growled sarcastically as he took a lingering look at his watch. “Even
you
might find this meeting important. We were just talking about Pinnacle Anesthesia.”
    Kim took off her parka and slid into her seat. Her cheeks were bright red from the cold and almost matched the color of her lipstick. Doug thought she was an attractive woman, small and slim with fine features and short blond hair. She’d recently celebrated her thirty-second birthday and had been with Keystone for two years. “What’s Pinnacle Anesthesia?” she asked in a weak voice.
    “You’ve never heard of Pinnacle?” Raskin asked, as if he couldn’t comprehend the fact that there was actually one person on the planet in the dark on this matter.
    “No, should I have?” Kim answered defensively, her voice taking on a strident tone. She was unable to hold Raskin’s stare; she dropped her gaze and busied herself with her pen.
    “They’re the bastards that come into a hospital and take over the anesthesia department,” Raskin explained with rancor. “They clean house and bring in their own people to run the fuckin’ place. Right,Bryan?” Raskin paused momentarily to get a confirmatory nod from his superior, and continued with renewed vigor. “They contract directly with the hospital to run the department for a fixed fee, and turn the billing over to the hospital. Administration goes ape-shit over that. They get the docs on salary, where they’ve always wanted ‘em, and have a chance to make a profit from the billing, too.”
    “Joe’s right, Kim,” Doug said. “This is serious bad news for us.”
    “But,” Kim said, “Joe mentioned profit. What does—how can they run this place any more efficiently than we do? We work sixty-plus hours per week!” Doug knew Kim despised their present work schedule. This time she gave Raskin a burning glare, which she didn’t drop.
    “They bring in newly trained docs or docs with questionable histories who are willing to work for half of what we do,” Doug responded. “Remember Kim, the job situation out there is tight.”
    “That’s the catch, Kim,” Mike went on. “The people they bring in are usually inferior or downright dangerous.”
    “None of them are board-certified,” noted Raskin with pride. All of the Keystone group were board-certified except for Omar Ayash—three failed attempts at the written exam, and Kim Burrows—who had passed her writtens and would sit for her first oral exam in July.
    “Don’t you think the surgeons would be outraged and rally behind us?” Kim asked.
    Marshall’s head swiveled with surprising speed to lock his gaze on Kim. He cocked his head slightly, like a hawk evaluating his prey. A cruel smile materialized on his face. “Unlikely my dear girl. Do you really think so?” He wielded his vast experience like a mace and bludgeoned people for