Dislocation (джен)

The next time, Chan’s considerably more alert, like his brain has been doing some filing and redecorating while he slept.  He remembers the fire fight.  He remembers sitting by the front door planter and smoking, convinced he was going to bleed out, and the med team who rushed out to pull him into surgery just in time.  He remembers brief flashes, rolling through the clinic and noting the water stain on the ceiling, vaguely hoping that his niece would be able to get a good rate on the foreign exchange for his estate and that the wire fees wouldn’t be expensive.
He lies still with his eyes closed, taking stock of his surroundings.  He can hear the machines and another person breathing.  He’s not sure if it’s a bodyguard - it might also be one of the boys, probably Tankhun.  If Khun is sitting with him, there aren’t too many casualties, but if it’s a bodyguard -
He lets his eyes slit open.  The person in the chair next to him is Kim.  That’s a good sign.
Or: Chan lives. This makes some things simpler, and others more complicated.