Max Burnage Ep. 01: Cheaters Beware

Max Burnage Ep. 01: Cheaters Beware

The following is a spin-off of my series, "Cheater's Gallery," which features Adrestia Rhamnousia.

As always, constructive comments are always welcome and appreciated. Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I do moderate comments.) And remember, this is a work of fiction, meaning that it is not real in any way, shape, matter or form.

...

The ending of "Cheater's Gallery 03: Kelli"

Adrestia moved on to the next case that came before her. One day, however, she sat down at her desk and took a long look at everything. All the pain, all the anguish, and all the cries for help. As she looked at it all, she was suddenly overwhelmed. She put her head in her hands and did something she hadn't done for two millennia.

She wept.

...

And now, "Max Burnage Ep. 01: Cheaters Beware"

Maxwell Burns opened his eyes and noticed the darkness. Where am I, he asked himself. He could hear the beeps of equipment and instantly noticed that his head had been bandaged up. The room he was in was also dark. Perhaps it's night time, he said to himself. It was obvious to him that he was in a hospital, but he couldn't quite remember why.

As his vision began to adjust to the darkness, he thought he saw two shadowy figures in the room at the foot of his bed. One appeared to be a tall, lanky man with a battered Stetson and the other seemed to be a much shorter, petite woman. They were talking quietly to each other and he focused as hard as he could, hoping to glean some information.

"What do you think, Eli?" the woman asked.

"Well, he certainly appears to have the heart for the job, but," he began.

"He's a bit on the weak side, and he doesn't have the skill set for the work," she said.

"I agree," the man said.

"The body can be built up and the skills can be learned," she argued.

"Idaho?" the man asked.

"Yes, for starters," she said.

"I take it you've already got approval for this?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "The big guy has approved, but with some conditions. One is that you help me mentor him, at least through his first couple of jobs. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course, you know I will," he said. "But I have to ask. Why?"

"Not now," she said. "He can hear us." The man looked at Maxwell. "I just need to know that you'll support me in this.

"Of course, That's what I'm here for, remember?" the man asked, trying to make a joke.

"And I would be totally lost without you, Eli," she said. "That's why I recruited you."

"Well, you need to be careful. He's still a flesh and blood mortal man," the tall man said. "With all the emotions and desires that go with it. I still can't help but think there's something else going on, though."

"You're very perceptive, Eli," she said. "But like I said, we'll talk about that later."

"So, why him?" the man asked.

"Because I sense the same desire for justice in him that I felt in you all those years ago," she said.

"And what's his story?" the man asked.

"Name's Maxwell Burns," she said. "He's an accountant. A very good one with a sharp eye for detail. He's been married for about five years to Shannon Dupree. No children, at her insistence. She works as a legal secretary and has been involved with a high-end attorney there for about the last year. This attorney, by the way, does work for some rather shady characters. Anyway, Max was gone for a week-long seminar to review changes in the tax code. When he returned, he was ambushed in his home, drugged, tied to a chair and forced to watch his wife take on multiple men. They made demands of him and he refused. So they beat him. Brutally. His wife also participated in all this. When they were finished, they dumped him at the hospital, unconscious. He was in a medically-induced coma for several days so the swelling in his brain could go down. They also did reconstructive surgery on his face. They tried to kill him, Eli."

"I take it she hasn't bothered to visit him?" the man asked.

"No," the woman said. "Some police officers have been by, but he hasn't been able to talk to anyone. Some of the people his wife are involved with are very dangerous. You and I both know that if Maxwell talks, he's as good as dead."

"Why did they target him?" the man asked.

"Simple," she said. "His wife wants his money and her accomplices want him to cook the books for one of their clients in order to hide some of his activities. All very illegal."

"So we need to get Maxwell Burns outta here before they come back, is that it?" he asked.

"In a nutshell," she said.

"He's in no shape to move now, that's for damn sure," the man said. "He needs protection. Is there anyone trustworthy enough to do that here?"

"No one I would trust," she said.

"So, you're saying I need to provide security for him?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so, Eli. Will that be a problem?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No, I can do that. If necessary I'll ask Amos and see if he's available. He's gotten pretty handy with that Winchester," the man said. "What will you be doing?"

"I need to make arrangements for him," she said. "This is very important to me, Eli." He studied her face for a moment.

"I can see that," he said. "Alright, but I want your promise that you'll tell me what's really going on."

"I will," she said. "Promise. Thank you, Eli, this means more to me than you'll ever know." With that, the two figures seemed to fade away. Am I dreaming, Max asked himself. What the hell is going on? What do they mean by Idaho? What's up there that he can't get here in good ol' Texas? None of this was making any sense. What did she want to recruit him for? He tried to make sense of it all, but was unable to. His door opened and a nurse came in. She checked his vitals, made notes on her chart, then inserted a syringe in the IV line. A few minutes later, he was sound asleep.

The next day after breakfast, a doctor came into his room. He examined Max and checked his notes, then pulled up a stool and sat next to his bed.

"Well, Mr. Burns," he said. "You seem to be healing quite nicely. How do you feel?"

"Still a bit sore," Max croaked.

"Well, that's to be expected," the doctor said. "You were nearly dead when you were dropped off. We had to do a lot of work on you."

"Has anyone been by to visit?" Max asked.

"Your boss and co-workers have been by almost every day to check up on you. They're very concerned," the doctor said. "Of course, you probably don't remember, do you?" Max shook his head.

"What about my wife?" Max asked. The doctor shook his head.

"I don't recall seeing her here," he said. "I think we're about ready to remove some of those bandages from your face. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Max said. The doctor turned to a nurse who had entered the room with a cart filled with various implements. He put on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a pair of scissors.

"Alright, just relax and let's see what we've got," the doctor said. He began cutting the bandages off and when he was finished, looked Max over before saying anything. "Very nice. Still some bruising, which is normal, but the swelling is going down. Would you care to take a look?"

"Sure," Max said quietly. The doctor handed him a mirror. Max was surprised when he took in his face. There were blue blotches on his face, but he barely recognized what he saw in the mirror. It was almost like looking at a totally different man.

"Why do I look so different?" he asked.

"Well, there was considerable damage to your face, and we tried our best to make it look the same as before the attack, but we were simply unable to," the doctor said. "I'm sorry about that."

"That's okay," Max said. "It doesn't look too bad. It's just different."

"Once the bruising and the swelling goes down, perhaps it won't be so bad," the doctor said. "We'll keep an eye on it."

"How much longer will I be here?" Max asked.

"I'd say about two more weeks," the doctor said. "I want to make sure all your injuries have healed up sufficiently before we release you. In the meantime, I've arranged for a counselor to come spend some time with you. Will that be okay?"

"Sure," Max said. The doctor made notes on his chart, handed it to the nurse and left the room. As the nurse left the room, a young, petite blonde woman entered, pushing a small cart with a teapot and two cups. She put the cart next to his bed and looked at him with sadness in her face.

"Good morning, Mr. Burns," she said. "How are you feeling today?"

"Sore, but I guess I'll be okay," he said. Her voice seemed familiar to him somehow. He looked at her name plate. All it said was, "A."

"Is that really your name, doctor? A?" he asked. She smiled as she looked at the name plate on her chest.

"It's what people call me most often, so yeah, you could say I'm Dr. A," she said. "My real name is Adrestia Rhamnousia."

"That's quite a mouthful," Max said. "So I can call you Dr. A, then?"

"That'll work for now," she said, pulling up a stool. She looked at him intently for a few moments. "Would you care for some tea? It's my own special blend. It might help relax you."

"That sounds nice," he said. "Thanks." She poured hot water into the cups over a tea bag she pulled from her pocket, stirred in a dollop of honey and handed one to him.

"Careful, that's hot," she said. He blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip, and savored the taste, which had just a hint of citrus.

"Very good," he said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said. "I'm glad you like it." She took a sip of her tea and set her cup down. "Can I call you Max?" she asked.

"Sure," he said.

"Max, what do you remember about your injuries?" she asked. He thought for a moment before answering.

"Honestly, I don't remember hardly anything," he said. "I had been at a seminar dealing with changes to the tax code. I'm a certified public accountant, and we have to keep up on these things. I got home and the next thing I know, I'm waking up here in more pain than I've ever felt in my life."

"So you don't remember how you got injured?" she asked.

"No, I don't," Max said.

"How are things between you and your wife?" she asked.

"Now that I can talk about it," he said. "At best, it's not good."

"What do you mean, Max?" she asked quietly.

"I think she may be having an affair," he said. "She started acting different about a year ago or so. Until then, she was the sweetest person you'd ever want to know. Then she started changing. One day, she'd be friendly and the next she'd be an absolute bitch. Sorry about the language."

"That's alright, Max," she said. "I've heard a lot worse. Go on, please."

"Then she started going with some of the girls she worked with for happy hour," he said. "I didn't mind since I sometimes go out for a beer with a couple of the guys now and then. But her happy hours got longer and longer. After about a month, she'd be out till about 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. And she reeked when she got home. These days, I don't hardly know her at all. And now, I learn she hasn't even been in to check up on me."

"Have you ever cheated on her?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he said. "Infidelity is a non-starter with me, and she knows it. Yeah, I've been hit on from time to time, but I've never cheated on her and I never would."

"Of course not," she said. "What would you do if you learned she's cheating on you?"

"That's a no-brainer," he said. "I'd kick her ass to the curb in a heartbeat." She smiled and nodded approvingly as he said that. He looked at her before speaking again. "Do you think she's cheating on me?"

"I would say it's a definite possibility," she said. "Would you like to know the truth?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Do you have a way to find out?" Her smile widened.

"Oh yes," she said. "Without a doubt. Do you think you can handle learning the truth?"

"I have to know," he said.

"Okay," she said. "Give me some time and you'll have your proof. For now, I need you to rest and get better. Will you do that for me?"

"Yeah, sure," Max said. "Could you leave me some of that tea, please? That's really very good."

"I'm glad you like it, Max," she said. "Don't drink too much, maybe a cup with lunch and another after dinner. I think you'll find that it'll help you sleep better as well."

"Oh, doctor, I have one more question if you don't mind," he said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Were you in my room last night?" he asked. "I heard someone in here talking to another person, and I could've sworn it was your voice." She thought for a moment before answering. She could lie to him, but she decided that she simply couldn't do that to him. Finally, she nodded her head.

"Yes, Max," she said. "I was here last night. I've been following your case from the beginning and I want to do everything I can to help you."

"And that man you were talking to," Max said. "Who was he?"

"That was a good friend of mine who agreed to help me watch over you," she said. He nodded his head. "Well, I need to get going, Max," she added. "I'll be back tomorrow and we can talk more, okay? In the meantime, drink some tea and get some rest."

"Okay, doc, thanks," Max said. "I'll see you tomorrow." He watched her as she left. She was a very attractive woman and well-put together. She seemed rather young to be a doctor, he thought. She was obviously holding something back, but what?

He didn't worry too much about it, as he was also holding something back, namely his memory, which was quite good. In fact, more than one doctor had suggested he might have hyperthymesia, which would explain his highly superior autobiographical memory. So why can't I remember what happened that night, he asked himself.

After lunch, he had a visitor. He was watching the news when a man tapped on his door. He looked up to see a tall man in a gray suit, holding a set of credentials.

"Mr. Burns," he said. "I'm Detective Hanson, and if you're up to it, I'd like to ask a few questions."

"Sure, come on in, Detective," Max said. The man came in and sat down next to him.

"You're sure looking better than you did the last time I saw you," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Max said. "But getting better. What can I do for you?"

"I heard you were fully awake and I was wondering if you remembered anything about the attack on you," he said. Max shook his head.

"No, I don't remember anything between the time I pulled into my driveway and the moment I woke up here," he said. "Which is strange given that I normally have a very good memory."

"Well, maybe it's due to whatever they drugged you with," the detective said.

"Drugged?" Max asked.

"Yes. Weren't you told?" Max shook his head, surprised.

"No, no one said anything to me about that," he said. "I'll have to ask the doctor when I see him."

"Have you spoken to your wife?" the detective asked.

"No, I haven't seen her nor have I heard from her," Max said.

"So you don't know that she's been in New York with that lawyer she works for? Jake Sylvester?" Detective Hanson asked. Max had met Jake a couple times and didn't care for him one bit. He came off as sleazy, oily. And he hated that perpetual smirk on the man's face.

"I understood she was just a legal secretary," Max said. "I didn't know she worked for a specific attorney."

"That's the word from her office," Hanson said. "They've supposedly been in New York for the last week or so, meeting with clients and potential clients."

"But that's not her job," Max said. "She types up legal briefs, documents, that sort of thing."

"Apparently not any more," Hanson said. Max shook his head. Shannon never said anything to him about this.

"I don't know what to tell you, Detective," he said. Hanson nodded his head, stood up and handed him a card.

"Well, if you remember anything, give me a call," he said. "The longer this goes on, the less chance we have of catching who did this to you."

"Okay," Max said, taking the card.

"Hope you get to feeling better," he said before he left the room. After he left, Max watched more television and was walked around the ward by the nurses on duty. When he got back to his room, it was time to eat, so he did, and enjoyed a cup of tea. He fell asleep, felling better than he had in some time.

He woke up at 3:30 am with a start, bolting upright in his bed. He remembered what happened the day he came back from that seminar.

"Holy fuck," he said to no one in particular as the memories flooded back to him. He laid back down and tried to go back to sleep, but found it difficult. Eventually, he dozed off, but woke back up when the nurses came to take him for his early morning tests, exams and X-Rays.

He ate breakfast when he was brought back to his room, and was running over his recalled memories when the doctor tapped on the door and came inside.

"How are we feeling this morning, Max?" he asked.

"Much better than yesterday," Max said. The doctor nodded his head and placed some X-Rays on the display device so he could see them. After consulting his chart, he turned to Max.

"I must say, I'm very impressed with your progress," he said. "The X-Rays show that your ribs are nearly completely healed, as are the fractures on your skull. On top of that, your testicles appear to be almost completely healed and fully functional. I see the swelling on your face is almost gone and the bruising is significantly diminished. Whatever it is you're doing, please keep doing it. At this rate, we might be able to discharge you in just a couple days or so."

"That's good to hear, doc," Max said. "You mentioned my testicles. How badly were they damaged?"

"Bad enough that we considered removing them," the doctor said. "But like I said, they now seem to be almost completely healed. Tell me, overall, how much pain are you feeling, on a scale of one to 10, with one being the least and 10 the worst?"

"Overall, I'd say about two or so," Max said.

"Good," the doctor said, making a note in his chart. "We'll keep an eye on things for a bit and I'll adjust your medications accordingly. You just rest and get well, okay? Do you have any questions for me before I leave?"

"Just one, doc," Max said. "What can you tell me about that counselor?"

"Dr. Rhamnousia?" the doctor asked. "I don't know much about her, other than to say she's licensed by the state and board certified. She couldn't work in or through this hospital if she wasn't. She's one of several who practices privately but does contract work with us. I can tell you that she specifically asked to be put on your case, and I approved her request. Why? Is there an issue we should be aware of?"

"No, Doc," Max said. "She's been great to me so far. She just seems a bit... young, if you know what I mean." The doctor chuckled at that.

"I know what you mean," he said. "She's quite attractive and takes good care of herself. But don't let any of that fool you. She's been around for quite a while and I've heard nothing but good things about her. Trust me, you're in very good hands. Is there anything else?"

"No, that's all," Max said. "I was just wondering. Thanks for clearing that up."

"You're welcome," the doctor said. "I'll be by later to check on you." With that, he left the room and Max turned on the television, but his mind wasn't on what was playing. A while later, there was another tap on the door, and Adrestia poked her head inside.

"Good morning, Max," she said, getting his attention. He looked up and waved her inside. As he watched, she entered pushing a cart with a pot of hot water and two cups. Her briefcase also sat on the cart. She closed the door as she entered the room.