Almost Kidnapped Pt. 01

This is my very first story I've ever written since my 80's Freshman-Comp class. I'm an Engineer so I tend to be techno/detailed, hope it does not distract from the story too much. Some of the items in the story are real, some embellished, and some fantasy, I'll let you try to figure them out. This story first started out as a L-BTB and morphed into what your about to read – a romantic wish. If you seek lurid sex then this story is not for you – I allude to sex but I leave the details to your imagination – often less is more. All names, likenesses, and some locations are fictitious.

My first L submission attempt was soundly rejected and I was told to get an editor, well easier said than reality. I've asked a dozen L-Editors to not have one of them respond to me. So this first story I'm resubmitting as an L-Virgin. My story is totally written I'm just now editing it into smaller parts with the hopes L will post this Eight part story. Enjoy OB!

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I was slowly meandering my way out of the mall near Barns & Noble just off Chagrin road taking in the sights, going no place special, and no schedule to keep. I was just letting time pass before I returned to my small extended-stay hotel room to try an artsy wood burning whim. I was going to try and gauge my talent and interest before spending any more money on better burning equipment. You see I'm an Engineer, so I'm naturally frugal, a nerd, aka. Cheapskate, unless I want it, then cost be damned I'll get it. It's one of my OCD issues.

As I continued my wandering I turned to view a goddess floating past me, she's so beautiful, so stunning, so sexy, a cross between Maureen O'Hara, Ann Margaret, and Diane Lane. A true neck breaking head turner, a heart stopper, moving with fluid grace bouncing her loose fitting knee length dress covering a voluptuous college cheerleader body. OMG! Along side her was a young clone dressed in the same dress same hair just chatting away. Both smiling and giggling away in complete loving harmony. Both had nearly the same bright shiny reddish auburn flowing hair down their backs with deep curls that just wafted in the breeze as they walked. They both sported the same big lens Sophia Loren type sunglasses. I was smitten; then I had a tinge of sadness as I was invisible.

There hands were full of bags carrying the latest treasures acquired from the mall. But as they approached the curb to the parking lot a white window-less van came to a screeching halt blocking their route. The side door slid open and a masked man, all in black, grabbed the little girl pulling her inside as she began screaming in panic. Then another masked man grabbed the lady and began pulling her into the van but she was putting up one hell of a fight. She drew blood with her first swipe across his face and eyes, blinding and stunning the goon.

Just then the passenger door opened and another masked goon came out but this one was holding a Glock™ pistol. I was five feet behind the lady –- I jumped forward throwing my +300 pound body into the passenger door bouncing his head off the door frame, stunning this armed goon, and briefly pinned him in the door frame. I slapped my left hand over his protruding left gun hand gripping his hand with pistol, bending his wrist back burying the muzzle into his gut and pulled his finger covering the trigger. With the muzzles upward angle I was sure the round went in or very close to his heart – he fell dead. I hoped!

I took the pistol from him as he collapsed to the curb. The masked driver was twisting in his seat towards me drawing his pistol, I'm not sure if he got a shot off but I move to the van side door using the narrow door post and passenger seat for some cover. I wrapped my arm around the passenger seat and pulled the trigger pointing at the driver about two feet from the muzzle. Three rounds went thru his seat and the driver slumped over the steering wheel. The other two masked goons had hands full of both women. They looked at me stunned while trying to control these women. The girl's screaming was deafening even louder than the pistol shots. I grabbed hold of the little girl with my free hand and ripped her out of the goons grasp, tossing her behind me onto the pavement. One safe one to go!

I grabbed the lady to pull her away, it was a tug-of-war, when the very big masked goon let go of the girl he pulled his pistol and swung towards me, In my mind I calculated 4 rounds expended of a possible 13, if this is a 9mm. I sent 3 rounds into him, two center-mass, and one head-shot at less than four feet. The other masked goon let go of the lady as I toss her out the side door towards the girl. This last goon that just let go dove out the rear door right into a cars grill becoming its new hood ornament. I suspect it knocked him out cold.

By now a crowd was beginning to gather, Mall security was running only steps away. I quickly cleared the pistol, dropped the clip, locked the breech open and tossed the pistol onto the van floor, knowing what was about to happen when the police/security arrived. I sure as hell did not want them to mistaken me as a bad guy with a pistol in my hand. All this took place in less than 60 seconds.

I turned and went to the lady and girl. The lady was going into mental fatigue shock. The girl was repeatedly thanking me, calling me HER HERO as she wrapped her arms around the lady. I looked at her badly scrapped knees that I caused and felt small. I reached for the lady to bring her to a sitting position when my lights went out.

Her limo driver had come up behind me and zapped me with a Taser to the back of my neck and kept Tasing me all the way to the pavement and continued Tasing me as I lay there oscillating. I was out cold my neck muscles began to swell constricting my breathing. I was in affect dying – just my luck, no good deed goes unpunished.

While the limo driver was Tasing me he kept shouting "I'll teach you to mess up our plan!" Mall security grabbed him to stop his Tasing rage upon me taking him into custody. Luckily, a Fire Department Rescue Squad was making rounds in the Mall doing an FD fund raiser.

When the FD heard the shots they mounted up and were just moments away being on the other side of the parking lot, maybe I did have some luck. The FD saw me turning blue with swelling to my neck. They did a field tracheostomy on me to restore my ability to breath. They fast transported me to the nearby ER Code 3. ER iced my neck to get the swelling swiftly reduced. But due to the lack of blood flow to my brain I fell into a coma. It was too early to determine the extent of the blood loss to know if I suffered brain damage.

The driver was booked on assault, later changed to attempted murder, and conspiracy to kidnap with three counts of murder pending investigation. One of the hoods was his baby brother he suffered a broken neck when making the swan dive into the limo grill.

ICU:

My ID was established from my SUV keys on my belt loop that has my old Vietnam dog-tag giving them name, SSN, blood type and burial religion. My hotel room key card was found in my pocket. In my SUV they found my Contractors badge to a local company establishing the purpose I was in the area. They found my cell phone on my belt-holster with two ICE (In-Case-of-Emergency) phone numbers. They called my wife to give her the news, "Mrs. Waddell, is Kevin your husband? Kevin is in ICU, listed as Critical, he came in unconscious and has been diagnosed in a coma due to brain blood loss, there're no other medical issues."

Some how this well dressed lady came into possession of my USB thumb drive from my pants pocket. The USB has all my private data on it, including stories I've been writing as a fledgling writer, technical articles I've copied or written, my resumes, and personal pictures of my life. Most of my stories were autobiographical about why I am what I am due to various hardships in my life. This nosy lady justified this gross intrusion into my privacy as her need to know what type of man would save her and put himself in harm's way for total strangers.

She was widowed at the age of 52. She lost her husband, daughter, and son-in-law in a private plane crash into Lake Erie. This widowed grandmother has been raising her seven year old granddaughter ever since.

My wife and son drove via Highway Patrol escort across the state to the ICU in Cleveland. They were informed my;

blood tests – all normal,

EKG, MRI, CAT scan – all normal,

brain waves – appear normal,

blood pressure – rather high but not dangerous.

Upon seeing me they were briefed as to what happen; I stopped an armed kidnapping of a grandmother and her granddaughter. I was Tased and reTazed in the neck from behind by the one of the assailants. My son demanded to see this goon, I'm sure there would be no trial for this goon if my son ever got his hands on him.

There is not much to be done or do when someone is in a coma; watch the IV's drip, the urine bag fill up, and the nurse check all connections/monitors every hour. My son returned home the following day as he needed to work. Coma is a diagnosis that can last a few hours to years.

My wife was sitting in the chair across the room reading her nOOk™ when the lady and little girl came in to see me. The lady introduced herself and the girl as the victims I had saved. My wife was polite to them but mystified as to why I did it. My wife told them she would be going home soon as there is nothing for her to do. The hospital would status her with a daily phone call of my condition. I may be downgraded soon to 'Guarded condition', then moved into a ward.

The lady cringed at what she just heard from my wife.

Three days later when they came to move me to the ward the lady changed those plans by having me put into a private room with a 24/7 dedicated nurse. I never did find out why I was not shipped to the hospital nearest my home, I'm glad it never happen as my local county hospital sucks.

This lady came to my room everyday and sat next to the bed as she read her slim-Notebook (with my USB inserted). The lady took it upon herself to pack up my belongings in my hotel room and moved me out.

The hotel had mixed feelings about this but let her take my stuff - this lady had some type of mystery clout. And the hotel didn't mind me leaving since I was an ardent pain in their ass almost every week due to their housekeeping sucks. From week to week it was a game to find what had not been cleaned or what towels or sheets where not refreshed. Three weeks into my stay I suffered a bed-bug attack and those little buggers make welts that don't go away, they are like nocturnal crawling psycho mosquitoes from hell. My Google search uncovered an ugly truth about those damn bugs. For three years running the Cleveland area is the 13^th worst USA City area for bed-bug infestations, oh lucky me. Why did I stay - well I could not find a furnished kitchenette room under $60/day. I said I'm frugal.

Me:

It is time to give you some of my background. I grew up in Northern Wisconsin the oldest of seven kids in a struggling blue-collar family. I became an avid hunter, archer, boater and overall outdoorsman obtaining the rank of 'Life' in Boy Scouts. I was a high school wrestler and set the school's weight lifting 'curl' record at 132#. I was a mediocre barely "C" student.

In 1973, I became all too aware 'bullets do penetrate skin'. On TV the KIA/MIA numbers were posted daily on the evening news. It was also evident that Vietnam was a total White House failure. But in getting the lucky lotto number 'two' the military was clearly in my future, so I enlisted in the Navy. Why Navy? Well B52's were regularly falling out of the sky and Marines/Army draft targets, so I figured the farthest from bullets was the Navy and besides the Navy has the very best electronics training, my passion. I was right but I was also so very wrong too - the Navy did go inland, up shitty-creeks in unarmored little boats.

Soon I discovered upon reporting aboard my first ship to find this 525' floating gray-hotel was full up, no racks at this inn. That same day 7^th Fleet sent out an all Fleet Z-gram seeking volunteers. The old man (Commanding Officer/Capitan) volunteered me getting double kiss-ass-points, as I was a PO3-NCO (E4/Non-Commissioned Officer). While in Subic I got Navy marksman medals and I became a qualified coxswain (hey, I had to do something military while in Subic's transit barracks or be put on base working parties – since they gave NCO's a choice, I chose the fun stuff).

I was thee newbie aboard, I was expendable, my year plus of electronics training meant nothing. Long and short I was flown to Clark AFB where they dressed me in greens, thanked me for volunteering to go to Nam. WHAT? Oh, shit Nam, damn.

They put us through an accelerated pure hell Marine-AIT & SERE course. SERE was in the bug infested Luzon mountains with rubber-hose carrying Flips playing guards. After this fun I was sent TAD to a 'covert" flotilla of PBR's up shit-creek (and I was not even issued a paddle). Everything was OJT if you lived long enough. Yes, I did things I'm not proud of but I lived they didn't – bottom line, I survived.

SVN could not be trusted to provide reliable taxi services. On hot rivers they turned tail stranding our guys. So our job was simple, taxi special force and LRRPs up/down-the-creek to near Cambodia so they could covertly booby-trap and sensor the Ho-Chi-Minh trail. Our river life expectancy was less than 3 weeks.

The worst of it was in waning days of 1974/75, knowing the US was pulling out of Nam, to overcome the haunting of "could I be the last casualty in this failed war?" was daunting. All of us carried a personal 1911 pistol and we marked our last clip to insure we knew in a hot fire-fight it held our last seven rounds. One of those rounds was for me, as we were told all the POW's we would ever get, got out on 1973's Freedom flights.

Years later when I transferred to shore duty again I was volunteered to be an Instructor – boot camp Company Commander (red & blue roper) that duty really sucked. A year later, I transferred to Armed-Force-Police/NIS where I got some good training that I use to this day. After ten years in this canoe club, surviving Nam, and peace time deflation, I had had enough and bugged out on the hump as a Chief Petty Officer/E7.

I was hired out the Navy into aerospace as an Engineer (at four times my Navy pay and full medical for my family). I soon came to the realization to get ahead here you must have paper (degrees) so began decades of college night courses finally getting my Masters. That was a long road to travel.

After 9/11, Ohio passed a law allowing Concealed-Carry; I was in the very first group to get the CCL. I took NRA courses becoming a Certified Instructor and in Personal Protection we train 'situational awareness' know your surroundings. Keep an eye open even when you're distracted, know your environment, where are the exits, where is close cover, what doesn't look normal, what is out of place, what should you AVOID? Simple stuff, like an overly rowdy sports bar, get up and leave. I still mentally practice the what-if's; what-if this happens - what should I do? What can I use as a weapon (since I rarely ever carry my pistol)?

Hospital:

The breathing tube had been removed on the 3^rd day when I was moved out of ICU. I had a feeding tube but I was losing weight fast and the doctors were mildly concerned, I was now just under 275 and falling. They attributed most of my weight loss to water and the liquid food diet. Water is 35lbs per gallon, I must have shed over a gallon... Good job Kev even if it wasn't by choice.

After 8 days in a coma I felt a presence, I opened my eyes to see a bright yellow ceiling and blue walls. I began hyperventilating as I did not know where I was. But the smell –- it was the smell of 'hospital' – I quickly rationalized that smell means I'm not in heaven or hell. My breathing got the attention of this strange lady sitting next to me. She was really beautiful – stunning is a better word.

She jumped out of the chair, grabbed my hand, and began talking a mile a minute. I was very confused and it must have shown on my face – who the hell is she, she's not dressed like a nurse. She pushed the call button and continued talking, telling me her name, Brandilynne Salem-St George, but I should call her Brandy. My thoughts drifted momentarily of my favorite Wisconsin drink, Brandy Old Fashion in the Green Street Tavern, then that song "Brandy" in the 70's that I'm sure was written for the sexy hot bartender named Brandy at National City's 'Brandy's bar' just up from gate-9, good memories.

In my haze I pulled off my CPAP mask so I could talk with a very parched sore throat, I then vaguely realized who she was- it is the lady. In a very raspy whisper I asked "how is the little girl"? The nurse, who just walked into my room and Brandy got ear-to-ear grins on their faces and were almost giddy. What I did not know was the fear of brain damage but my question dispelled all those concerns, instantly.

Brandy said "her granddaughter is doing great and I am THEIR HERO." That label embarrassed the hell out of me (the only hero's are those who did not come home from War). I never rescued them for heroics, I did it due to it needed to be done to save lives. Maybe her label should be 'STUPID CHAUVINIST', that would be far more accurate reflecting back to my antics. I could have gotten them all killed... I reacted to the moment and past training propelled me into this mindless action. I'm certainly not courageous!

I motioned for water, my throat was so sore and so parched. I asked with a louder voice "what happened?" Both the nurse and Brandy said "we will talk later."

Am I in trouble? I'm sure I killed one of them? Brandy stated "you're in no trouble, just rest."

I asked how long have I been here? Brandy looked at the nurse and they said eight days. I exclaimed "what the hell, eight days, I've rested long enough –- I want answers, NOWl!!"

Then I got was the infamous female stare down - the look, "if you say one more word, we'll gag you –- shut up." All said to me subliminally via 'the look', that puts fear into sane men.

Just at that moment two doctors came waltzing in, both female, both young and both very cute. They introduced themselves as my neurologist and psychologist, then they proceeded to blind me with a flashlight and role a pin-wheel up my feet, legs and arms, that damn wheel hurts. Next was the little rubber hammer slaps on my joints.

Then they bombard me with questions – I held my hand up and motioned for more water or I'm not talking. During these questions I noticed a tall man, in a crumpled suit, walked in standing near the door watching the doctors drilling me with questions.

Brandy sat down and watched with an expression of confidence and annoyance. This man was obviously a cop I could see the bulge on his hip pushing his coat out, my situational awareness had already kicked in. And no one was alarmed at his presence so I figured he passed the 'he can be here rule of hospitals'. The two doctors huddled in the corner of the room talking. Brandy was clearly eavesdropped on their discussions. Then this cop approached me after one of the doctors gave him a head bob.

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I hope you enjoyed my first Part of my first story. I will pay attention to signed comments but not Annoy's. Annoy's have no standing – either sign them or remain irrelevant. Thanks, OB Part 1/8