Justin and Javier faced one another across the room. The HVAC foreman’s bruises had faded but his hateful sneer was fresh.
“Come on,” pleaded Zavod. “Water under the bridge.” He produced a bottle and glasses and poured three shots.
Justin picked up a cup and waited for Javier to do the same. After a quick glance at Zavod, he did. They downed the bourbon.
“Okay,” said Justin, “I’ve developed a schedule that will get us complete by–” the word resisted him –”deadline.” He swallowed. “But it’s relentless.”
“We can handle whatever you got,” spat Javier.
“Good,” said Zavod. “Do it.”
I.E. 
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