Jake Randolph: Origins Pt. 40

I opened my eyes, trying to look around but my vision was blurred, my head was swimming. I was coming out from under the anesthesia. I assumed that meant I'd come through the surgery.

I'd been on a case that drew me into contact with an old foe, a man who'd shot me back in 1945 and then disappeared. Now it was 1962 and I'd ran across him again and the bastard shot me for a second time. At least he was consistent.

But this wasn't a stranger. I knew this man well. My mind slipped back into the past...