It Ain't Paranoia if... Ch. 04

My family was standing with hands raised against the back wall of the living area, and a small woman was kneeling on the carpet, holding a gun on them. I could hear someone loudly yelling from the back bedroom in a foreign language.

At that moment, I noticed that the man closest to me was Asian, and realized that all the kidnappers were. I targeted the kneeling woman, who was again yelling in English that she was going to kill the hostages if we didn't stop firing and surrender.

My line of sight meant the heavy bullet would hit Kaitlyn if I missed, or if it passed through the small woman. The closer man was standing over his fallen comrade, peering out the window while staying out of sight. Perhaps he saw me move to improve my line of sight to the woman, but suddenly he turned and fired at me; the bullet hit the passenger chair only inches from my hand.

I quickly fired two slugs into his chest; he gurgled, spun, and dropped. Both his companions in the room turned toward him, giving me a shot at the woman's side. Hoping the bullet wouldn't pass through her and hit Kaitlyn, I fired. She flew sideways with the impact, landing at Kaitlyn's feet. Kaitlyn looked down, but appeared unharmed.

The other man fired two shots into the heavily stuffed chair; I felt one tug at my left shoulder, and another slammed into my ribs. I pulled back, ignoring the sudden pain, then lunged forward between the captain chairs in the prone position, and spotted the shooter. He retargeted toward me, but I fired twice at his mass before he got off a wild shot that hit the windshield. He fell, and his gun flew across the room to the wall beside Kaitlyn.

I moved my focus to the bedroom door. I could hear firing from the bedroom, and from outside. I looked at Kaitlyn and my children, motioned them to get down, and returned to watching the door beside them.

The longer I lay there, the dizzier I got, but I knew I had to kill the remaining kidnapper before he killed my family.

Suddenly he was coming through the doorway, pointing an AR of some kind in my direction. I fired at him and missed. He pointed the muzzle toward me; I snapped another shot at him, and then heard four or five rapid shots. Through an emerging haze, I saw him fall sideways, away from my family.

***

Apparently, I missed the next few days. That included the old outlaws and our security detail destroying a carload of North Koreans rushing to aid the kidnappers, and me being taken back toward Fort Davis at breakneck speed. I don't remember the air ambulance picking Juan and me up at a turnaround atop a small mountain, or the flight to Midland Memorial Hospital.

The first thing I remember is soft lips on my forehead, and then an angelic face moving slowly away from mine. When the angel saw I was watching, she shrieked something, and people came rushing into my room.

The next thing I remember is the angel sitting beside my bed. She was holding my hand; her eyes were closed, and she was praying quietly. "Angel" I murmured, "Are you praying for me?"

She didn't shriek this time, but she did call for a nurse before standing and gently kissing my lips below the oxygen tube running into my nose. People in lavender scrubs rushed into the room, made the angel move, and started looking at all the machines above my bed. In due course, an Asian man came into my room, introduced himself as Dr. Wang, told me he had been my surgeon, and that he was glad to see me awake.

I remained silent as he examined me, and then asked if I had any questions.

"About a million, Doctor Wang: let's start with where am I, and how did I get here?"

He laughed, and said I would get all million questions answered in due time, but the first answers were easy. "You are in the Midland Memorial Hospital ICU. You were brought here four days ago by helicopter after receiving two gunshot wounds in what the media are calling the 'Gun battle in the Texas Alps', or some version of that.

"Before you ask, Juan De Leon is doing well; he's to be released tomorrow. Your family and the friend who were with you were uninjured, although they played a big part in the aforementioned 'gun battle'. I'm sure they will all want to see you and tell you their stories, but I'm afraid I need you to get a bit stronger before we do that."

He looked behind him at the angel sitting alertly in her chair, and grinned. "I've banished this one at least a hundred times over the past few days, but she seems to reappear as soon as I leave. I understand she's not actually kin to you, but do we have your permission to let her stay?"

"The first time I woke up, I thought she was an angel. Who am I to tell an Angel no?"

I turned to the Angel and asked, "Where are the children?"

"Our friends took them to eat breakfast at eight, so I'm sure they are back in the waiting area by now. They would love to see you, if Doctor Wang will allow them."

"Please, Doc? Seeing them would speed my recovery!"

He chuckled, shook his head, and said, "If I let them in, how long until the rest sneak in here? How are you going to follow my prescription for rest with a room full of family and friends?"

Then he grinned at me, nodded, and said, "I'll let you see your children and friends for ONE HOUR, no more! And that is only if you will make 'your angel' over here leave with them and stay away until visiting hours at five! Can you do that?"

"You'll have to talk to the Angel about that; I've never had much luck telling her what to do, but I can try. I will make the others leave, and I'll rest until five."

He nodded to the nurse, who smiled at me and hurried from the room.

"Doctor Wang, I do have one thing I want to ask you about. Why don't I feel worse if I got shot twice? I'm tired, but I don't hurt nearly as bad as I did the last time I got shot."

"I'm told that the slugs passed through a padded chair before they hit you, so the velocity was low. There was little tissue damage in your trapezius, but it bled a lot before the EMTs were able to stem the flow. The slug that was wedged between your ribs was dislodged when you were moved into the ambulance, and the wound bled profusely.

"You had to have a number of transfusions, but once we got the wounds closed we started to believe we could save you. You are very fortunate, Mr. MacGregor. If it had taken longer to get you here..."

The sound of running children echoed in the hall, and my two rushed into the room. They spotted me, and froze. "Daddy?" Dos asked tentatively, "Can we come to you?"

Grace looked at her mom and then at the doctor, who smiled at her. "Yes, you can come to his bed and touch him, but remember he is injured, so be gentle." He smiled at me, and left, working his way out of the room through the crew standing there blocking the door and hall.

Grace and Dos approached carefully, almost shyly. I raised my right arm and said, "Come around to this side, so I can hug both of you!"

They broke out their best smiles, raced around to my 'good side', and into my arm. Dos was being squashed between his sister and his dad, but he didn't seem to care. His arm was across my upper chest, his head was on my shoulder, and Grace was leaning over him to kiss my cheek. She began telling me how much they love me and how afraid they were when they saw me bleeding after I shot the bad people.

My son interjected, "Dad, you were like a movie hero! You shot that guy through the window, snuck the door open and shot the man who shot at you, and then the mean woman who said she was going to kill us! And then you shot the other man in the room, and the man who came out of the back!

"Well, Mommy shot him too, but you shot him first!"

"Your mommy shot a man?" I asked, trying to picture Kaitlyn shooting a pistol, much less shooting someone with a pistol!

Gracie answered with undisguised pride, "Mom shot him like a dozen times I think, when he pointed the machine gun at you!"

I looked over at Kaitlyn, whose loving expression had not changed. I then looked toward the door, where the Jumanos were standing in a pack, grinning. "Seriously?" I asked.

Ron laughed, "Yep, she did, and then checked to see the others were disarmed. We were a mite busy with their friends, but had them outgunned with what we had in your Denali, and they didn't last long. Abel says he ran around to the front, checked the status inside the RV, and saw Kaitlyn holding compresses on your wounds, with the kids looking over her shoulders.

"He says she calmly told him that the woman and two of the men were dead, and she had disarmed the two that were alive. She pointed at the pile of pistols by her side, and told him to check on them, because she was afraid you would bleed to death if she didn't stop the blood flow.

"I'm telling you, Son; that is a gal to ride the river with! She was cool as a cucumber and totally focused right up to the point they flew you off in the helicopter!"

I looked at her; she appeared composed, but I saw her lip quivering. "Come here," I told her, and she came to the bed, stood beside it, and put her hand on my cheek.

"So you were my brave girl? you saved me from the bad guy and then saved my life again by staunching the blood flow? Is that right?"

Her slight lip quiver increased in intensity, her eyes began watering, and then she leaned over, put her hand above my shoulder to support herself, and said, "I wasn't brave -- I was terrified! I was afraid for our kids, for myself, and for you!" and she began crying torrents with her chin on my forehead.

The kids clouded up as they watched her, and then I was being flooded with tears. I let them cry it out, and shed a few myself. After a few minutes, the kids' sobs turned to sniffles, but Kaitlyn just continued to sob.

I wormed my arm loose from under Dos, and wrapped it around his mom. "Kaitlyn, Angel, can you stop crying long enough to kiss me? I really need a kiss from my brave girl!"

Her sobs slowly diminished; I asked, "Can I get that kiss now, Angel?"

She looked at me with swollen, bloodshot eyes, wiped snot from under her nose with her sleeve, and with an effort, tried to tease me. "You sure you want someone who looks like this kissing you?"

"Of course I want the bravest and most beautiful girl in the world to kiss me!" I replied, and pulled on her arm with mine.

She leaned down, lip trembling still, gently kissed me on the lips, and then tried to pull away; I held her in place and said, "That's not the kiss I need: try again!"

A smile pushed the tremors away, and brightened her pretty face. She leaned down, and this time she gave me a real kiss. It was rated PG 13, but barely, and the tip of her tongue promised more when I was ready.

"Uh, I'm getting tired now. Why don't all y'all go back to your rooms and leave Kaitlyn here to look over me for a while?" I asked with a grin.

"Por que we don't want you to open up your wounds and bleed out, that's why!" Carlos answered with a big smile.

Chris laughingly said, "The doctor said you need rest, not exercise. We'll take her with us, and come back around five."

They did return at five, en masse, and Clay and Claude were with them. Kaitlyn kissed me on the forehead and took her seat on his left side; Grace and Dos took their place on my right, with my arm around them. I felt better, and I guess it showed because none looked as tense as they had earlier.

The brothers moved next to his bed to express their happiness that I'm alive and getting better, and then faded back to the larger group around the door after I thanked them for coming.

The conversation was light throughout the allotted hour, and they all promised to return tomorrow. I asked how Juan was doing, and was told he would be released tomorrow, mainly due to the Kevlar vest he was wearing under his tee shirt stopping one of the two bullets: the one that would have killed him.

After a late supper, I reflected on Kaitlyn's changing attitude. When I was near death, she was apparently all over me, and refused to leave. Now that I was improving... well, at least tonight... she was rather cool toward me. I couldn't have done anything to cause that while lying in a hospital bed, so either something had happened during the day, or she had reached some conclusion she hadn't shared with me.

***

I slept like a log, thanks to something my favorite nurse injected into my IV tube, and awoke early, ready to rumble -until I tried to raise my left arm. That hurt like hell! My favorite nurse was still on duty; she heard the commotion followed by my loud expletives and came in wearing an 'I told you not to raise your arm, didn't I?' smirk.

"What's the matter, Mr. MacGregor? You didn't try to raise your arm, did you?"

"Of course not, La'Kesha. I must have turned the wrong way," I replied through gritted teeth.

"Just a reminder, Mr. MacGregor: the trapezius muscle won't respond well to raising your arm, and neither will your broken and bruised ribs, so try to keep that arm still." Then with an evil grin, she added, "Or I'll have to strap it down tighter."

"Okay, okay, I'll be still. But how much longer will I have to have the catheter?"

"Until your wounds heal and you can get out of bed, I suppose. Why? Is it uncomfortable?"

She asked the last questions with an even more evil grin. I countered with, "I have a good hand; I can use a bottle. How about we get this thing out and I'll prove it to you."

She laughed, said she'd talk to the doctor, winked at me, and asked why I wanted it out so badly; I didn't even have to move to pee. I told her it was embarrassing and uncomfortable, and I'd be most appreciative of whoever got it out. She laughed and walked away.

A few minutes later, she returned with the little pump, deflated the bladder, and pulled out the tube. I held my breath and gritted my teeth while it was being pulled out, and gave a big sigh of relief when it popped out. Even though she was about 6' 200 lbs, and at least 50 years old, she giggled like a schoolgirl, shook her head, hung my pee bottle on the guard rail by my right hand, and took the two-foot long torture device out of the room. Well, it felt two feet long when she was pulling it out!

My breakfast arrived a few minutes later, and I was able to sit up and eat, albeit with one hand. The coffee sucked, but, still, it was coffee, and I drank the little pot dry. Of course, then I had to pee, and that was an uncomfortable experience that conversely engendered a feeling of freedom. When bound to a hospital bed, small triumphs are big!

As promised, the entourage appeared when visiting hours began at 9 am. The myriad doctors, nurses, techs, and orderlies had been in and out of my room since five, and Doctors Wang and Lopez had delivered good news, so I was flying high. Until I noticed that Kaitlyn wasn't here.

The kids were, though, so I listened to their extended tale about the movie they went to after they left, and how they ate and played games at Mr. Gatti's with Uncle Clay and Mommy before they went back to the hotel and went to bed.

I glanced back at the group and noticed that Claude was there, but not Clay. The twinge I felt wasn't from my arm or ribs.

Doc was sitting in Kaitlyn's chair, and when the kids finally played out, he began asking me questions about the documents I shared with the FBI when I left Robert's employ. When I mentioned the Winslow Group, Claude stepped forward.

"What about the Winslow Group?" he asked. "What information did you have?"

"While I was in South America trying to negotiate an oil deal, I came across a scheme to transport oil by tanker to a certain point in the Pacific, and then illegally offload it on to another tanker. I was pretty sure it was a scheme to circumvent an embargo or trade ban of some kind, and I told that to the FBI.

"Why are you asking?"

They looked at each other, and then Claude said, "We're still gathering information. The kidnappers were North Koreans who 'came to the US on vacation', using South Korean passports. We think you were actually their target, but we don't know why.

"Think about what you may know that you didn't share with the feds while you're resting and recuperating, and let me know if you think of something that might be helpful."

Soon thereafter, my day nurse came in and took my vitals, and then gave my crowd a frown. "Will you be leaving soon? He needs his rest."

That broke up the party, without me ever getting to ask where Kaitlyn... and Clay... were. The twinge came back, so I lay there and examined the unexplained pain until I began to drift off to sleep.

Something woke me only a few minutes later; I turned my head and saw that my golden-haired angel was back! Or, was she actually mine? Clay was with her.

"We brought you REAL coffee, from Far West Coffee Company!" Clay said. "That watered down stuff they serve here is crap, so we got you a real nice dark roast -- you're gonna love it!"

I did, and I loved the sweet kiss on my forehead Kaitlyn delivered. She gave me a pleasant smile, and took her seat. Clay pulled up a chair and sat beside her. They carried on about the coffee shop and raved about something called Oatchata, or at least that is how it sounded when they said it. They seemed quite relaxed with one another, and quite close. The twinge came back, and my heart rate / blood pressure monitor started beeping.

Nurse Taylor came in, looked at the monitor, and frowned at my guests. "What happened to set off your monitor, Mr. MacGregor?" she asked, while giving the evil eye to Kaitlyn and Clay.

I was explaining that nothing had happened when they jumped up, apologized, said they would return at the visiting hour that afternoon, and scurried out the door without even a goodbye, much less a goodbye kiss from Kaitlyn. The twinge was getting stronger, and I glared at the nurse; she glared right back, and injected something into my IV.

I soon went bye bye, but my sleep was filled with vivid dreams about Kaitlyn... with Robert, and with Clay. I was happy to be awakened for lunch.

I felt better after eating. Being obstinate, I started trying to move my left arm around. The shoulder and ribs hurt like hell, but my responded without generating a 10 on their pain scale; progress!

"When is my doctor coming by today?" I asked humorless nurse Taylor.

"As it says on your whiteboard, Mr. MacGregor, he is scheduled for 3 pm," she replied with typical impatience.

"What about Doctor Lopez? He isn't listed," I replied in a tone that equated hers.

"He isn't scheduled to come see you, but he is making rounds right now. Would you like for me to see if he will come by?"

Since her response was civil, I responded courteously, "Please do."

Dr. Lopez, the neurologist, came in about 2 pm. I queried him about my prognosis; he advised me that my surgeon was the person to ask, but, after examining my wounds, he said they were healing nicely, and he could see gentle physical therapy in my near future. "From a purely neurological position, I don't see any limitations resulting from the wounds. With GSWs, we worry about any number of possible affects, but the 'shoulder' wound is relatively clean. The bullet passed through without tearing any critical tissue, so your shoulder and neck should return to normal service, in time, as the muscle tissue regenerates.

"The wound to your rib cage wasn't as clean, and there is still concern about the infection that developed so quickly, but it does appear that the infection is under control; I don't see any concerning seepage.

"I'll consult with Doctor Wang before he comes by, but I doubt you will need much more from me."

I waited impatiently until Wang came, about fifteen minutes late. As soon as he finished his examination, I asked for his prognosis. "We're planning to move you from ICU to the surgical floor later today, if the blood tests they took this morning show that nasty infection is under control. I know you're impatient, but let's take one step at a time. Five days ago we were fighting the odds to keep you alive!"