I've gotten more banged up, shot up and fucked up on these contracts than I have in an entire career as a law enforcement officer. Thank God I didn't lose a finger on my right hand.  I'm going to have to be a lot more discerning about who I go on these jobs with. The whole point of things, apparently, is that it's pretty random. There's a chance anyone can show up to these things, although the harbinger (that's the weird smoke man) says that he picks people specifically. The last go round, I spent 2 months healing from a gunshot to the chest.

 This time, I'm going to be laid up for even longer. The Chicago PD think it was a mugging gone wrong, or someone I helped put away trying to come back for revenge. They put me in protective custody - had deputies posted outside my room in the hospital, then had me and Rufus in a safehouse for 2 weeks after that. The hospital brought in this high-class surgeon to reattach my finger - hard to say if it's ever going to work right. Being at the safehouse was BORING as hell. I wasn't even allowed to take Rufus out myself for walks. They sent a plainclothes deputy to do it - she kind of looked like me. They tried to make a sting out of it, to bait the people they think shot me up. I just went along with it - the real situation was beyond explanation. They figured out eventually that no one was coming for me. I guess I'm glad my unit cares so much.

Now that the basic healing is done, I'm headed to physical therapy. We have a guy that most of the Department uses after injuries. His name's Paolo and he's fine as hell. Good to say there'll be at least one brought spot during the next few months. That, and Rufus.