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[h3][color=cyan]Tao Zhen[/color][/h3]
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The tonic that Tao “owned” was in a five story building next door to the gangs headquarter. The first floor was what people would expect. A tattoo shop, a dive of a grocery store, a pharmacy, and small shops selling things that people might want. Around back was the entrance to the clinic and the chop-shop. On the second floor was the “normal” clinic and offices. The third floor was the trauma area, a surgical suite, and four recovery rooms. The fifth floor was Tao’s office and storage for all the cyberware, medical and surgical supplies. Tao’s office had a desk a bed for those late nights and a small balcony that overlooked the street below. Currently Dr. Tao Zhen and his nurse were performing surgery on a Street Sam brought in by the gang.

There was a metallic clink into a catch pan as Dr. Zhen pulled the bullet out of some woman who was more machine than human. He was careful to stay away from possible cyberspurs or other implanted weapons. He was also careful not to say anything that might be recorded by the patient’s headware. It was the eighth bullet and the last.

Marina handed him some gauze, the hooked needle, and sutcher.
“Polydioxanone?” He asked her?
She nodded her agreement. 
He squirted a heavy duty antibiotic ointment into the wound and started to close. 
“You have to be careful with this much cyber in a person. Because infections love to hide in the mechanical joints and seams. It can make a person go septic in a mater of days,” he said. 
Marina had heard this said so many times she tuned off the next part about making sure everything was sterile before they start and how she needed to care for the wound. It was for the patient still under from the drugs benefit and not hers.

When done, he said, “Room three and keep her strapped so she does not hurt herself.” Street Sam’s tended to wake up still in the fight before they realized the fight left them behind. 

He stripped off the gloves and the P.P.E. and threw them in the trash leaving the cleanup to Maryna. She would make sure thing were sterile and the equipment ready to go if they had time before the next trauma came in. 
He entered the elevator and headed down to the clinic to get som tea and find out if they were getting paid for this job or was it another freebie. 

He walked in to find his office manager Ramira talking to an entertainer with to crying children on her lap. The woman was dressed in a kimono and had bruises on her neck and wrist. Tao thought she would have Ben pretty if she was Korean. 
“Good, the Doctor can see you now,” Ramira said leading them to a examine room while giving Tao a dirty look for taking so long to get the surgery done. At times he did not really know who was running this operation. 
Two ear aches, a sample of antibiotics and two prescriptions later they were getting ready to leave. Asking about the bruises the woman tried to deflect the conversation while speaking in Japanese. Tao did not change languages, then sighed and swore in Russian. It sounded better when you swore in Russian. He would would report this and the gang would take care of the problem. 

Ramira walked in as the door opened giving the woman a small bag of baby formula, some diapers and food. Tao shook his head and walked to get his tea. 
“Not so quick, you have a meeting to attend in fifteen minutes,” the office manager said. 
He had her print the bills for the surgery he completed and for the care they had given away that day and headed for the club. She handed him yen to get food to bring back for the staff. 

As he exited he tried to turn to the left to find two of the junior gang members waiting to escort him to the club. 
“I need to go get something,” he said wanting to head for the bookie’s place. 
Then Zi Ping placed a hand on his shoulder stopping him. 
Again he sighed and swore in Russian. One of the things the Maryan had taught him. 
They weaved themselves through the mass of people and down into the club, Tao had his hood up and they were allowed to skip the line to the protests of some of the prospective patrons trying to get in and stuck in line. 
His gang sign was done in white with a thin black boarder and it was placed on the back of his right wrist. 

He looked up to see the gang leader and held up the stack of invoices for her. This gang was trying to keep him broke. Still somehow they also managed to find what he really needed when it was needed.  He waited for the meeting time and for the food to come.