“Just say it!” said another officer.
“Well, we wanted to know if our families could join out here and work with you again.”
Mac’s mind was turning. He had heard earlier that Lance’s group would be half of what John and the council had allotted for. Could I get three more highly trained security added to my team? he wondered.
Mac pulled Cory aside, asking the men to sit tight for a few minutes.
“I want to talk to John, Bill and the council,” Mac told him. “These families are 20 miles outside of town already, and if we wait on this, they will likely find somewhere else to help out. I know it’s already afternoon, but let’s see if these three—just your old officers, I mean—can stick around for an hour or so. I’m sure they don’t need the Mayor’s help to get back to town.”
Cory and Mac headed up to John’s house, radioing ahead.
John and Bill were about to meet with the council briefly before getting Mac’s opinion on the Horsetooth Reservoir situation.
“Are we agreed, Cory, that adding a few of your old men with their families is a smart move for our community, needing as much trained security as we can get?” asked Mac.
“Absolutely,” replied Cory. “There has already been a need, and that is about to increase tenfold in the coming weeks and months, maybe even years.”
* * * *
Entering John’s house, Mac took the lead in addressing the group.
“John, Bill, council members,” he started. “I believe most of you have met Officer Cory Lerner, former Chief of Police for Loveland.” Most heads nodded yes.
Mac continued: “We were paid a visit about an hour ago, on our northern valley border, by the Mayor and City Council of Loveland. As head of security, it is my responsibility to maintain
a safe and secure valley, including both our and the West’s properties. With more than 500 acres to monitor, it can be taxing on our security detail. We learned firsthand recently that our borders can be breached, as the Miller boys showed us.
“Officer Lerner, or Cory, as he likes to be called, was instrumental in resolving the Miller situation. Three of his former officers, two males with families and one single female, have inquired about a position on our Ranch. I’ll let Cory speak to their character before we step out to give you all time to discuss it.”
Cory stood in front of the council, a little nervous. He was used to talking in front of a room full of officers, but this was somehow different.
“First, thank you for approving residency for my son, Cameron, and me. We will work hard to earn our place here.
“As for my former officers, all three were on the force for more than five years, each with impeccable records. I would trust my life to any one of them. One has a wife and two girls, ages four and six; the other married officer has with one son, age three, I believe. The third never married and has no children. If you are looking to add more highly trained people to your group, these are the three, in my opinion.”
“One last thing,” said Mac. “The Miller boy is alone up on the mountain now and is asking to help with security here in exchange for food.”
“Mac, can you guys please give us about 15 minutes?” asked John.
“Of course,” replied Mac.
Cory and Mac talked outside, awaiting an answer.
“What do you think?” asked Cory.
“Well, John and Bill both have seen firsthand how important security is,” said Mac, “and I think the council realizes that everything we have means nothing if someone else can just take it. Samuel’s group learned that recently with their mountain community.”
“Come on in, guys,” said Bill, stepping out the front door.
“We have discussed both ideas presented,” announced John, “and have come to a near-unanimous conclusion. The Miller boy can help out with security as you see fit, Mac, but he will not reside on our property. We had some issues with those boys a few years back, as you know.
“As for your former officers, Cory, we unanimously agreed to add them to our group. The spouses will be expected to contribute to the whole with fitting jobs.
“Mac,” continued John, “you have done a good job as head of security so far.”
Mac’s head was spinning, as he wondered if he was being demoted.
“You have amassed a good group and trained them well,” John continued. “We would like you to appoint Cory, and Jimmy as soon as he is able, as your supervisors. They will each lead a team that you pick, and report directly to you. We would also ask that you update us weekly, at the very least, on the security of the entire valley, including the West property and both border stations. Obviously, anything needing immediate attention, such as today, would qualify for a quick gathering of all present here. How does that sound, Mac?”
“Great, John. That’s just fine by me.”
“Cory, are we agreed on your end?” asked John.
“Absolutely, sir, and thank you for the opportunity,” replied Cory.
Both left the meeting feeling much better than when they arrived.
“Are you going to be OK working under me, Cory?” asked Mac.
“I already do,” Cory replied, smiling. “And it’s much more than I ever expected for me and my boy when it all went to hell. So yeah, I’m good…better than good.”
Mac, feeling like the kid who finally busted open the piñata, couldn’t wait to tell the officers the news.
* * * *
All three were thrilled with the news, and the Mayor changed his demeanor for only long enough to ask for a spot as well.
“We’re all set on leadership here,” said Cory, maybe feeling a little bad that he took pleasure in turning his old boss down, whose weekly motto had been “The Chief of Police serves at the pleasure of the Mayor and can be terminated at any time.” If he was being honest, he didn’t feel bad at all.
The three officers vowed to come back with their families in three days’ time.
* * * *
Mac couldn’t help but make a stop at the hospital to tell Jimmy the news about his new position as soon as he was better. He wouldn’t mind seeing Sarah for a few minutes as well.
The small hospital was bustling with activity as Mac and Cory entered through the front door.
“What’s going on?” asked a concerned Mac, as Sarah rushed passed him in a near run.
“Back outside, both of you!” she commanded.
They did as they were told and were filled in about the happenings by a front-desk receptionist on her cigarette break.
“The guy in the back had a stroke,” she said, without emotion.
“You mean Jimmy?” asked Mac.
“I think so,” she replied, “if he’s the one who got shot a couple of days ago. The name sounds right.”
“Oh no!” said Mac, asking if Jimmy would be OK.
“Do I look like a doctor to you?” she asked, followed by a perfect smoke ring that only an accomplished smoker could pull off.
Mac held his tongue and waited another 45 minutes before sending Cory home to his boy.
“I’ll stop by later and let you know what I find out,” said a concerned Mac. A reluctant Cory headed back up to the Ranch.
A full hour later, Sarah opened the front door of the hospital.
“I wasn’t expecting you to stay, Mac,” she said, smiling only a little.
“Jimmy had a stroke. It was an unforeseen complication of the neck wound, and the left side of his body is paralyzed. We’re doing all we can, and he is stable now.”
“So, what does that mean?” Mac questioned in a loud tone.
“Mac,” she said in a low voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It means if all goes well, he will survive but will likely have limited use of his left arm and leg, at best.”
“No, no,” said Mac. “He’s supposed to be one of my key security leaders. Please…just fix him.”
“We’re doing all we can,” she restated. “He’s lucky to be alive at this point.”
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“I’m sorry, Sarah,” he replied, calming down. “Of course you’re doing everything possible for him. I know that.”
“Do you?” she asked.
“I do,” he insisted, hugging her tightly. “He’s my friend, too, and Lord knows I don’t have many of those.”
“I know that,” she replied. “You’re all he’s talked about the past day, since he could speak.”
Mac continued: “I just don’t get it. When something good happens, it seems something bad is right around the corner.”
“It all depends on how you choose to see it,” Sarah replied. “Your men brought Jimmy to my hospital half dead, shot in the neck up on a mountain and brought down on a four-wheeler with a T-shirt around the wound.
“In a fancy city hospital, even if he were shot in the front lobby they would still be lucky to save him. We did save him and he had a complication, as many in that state do. It may not be the last one, either. He is still alive and will hopefully leave this hospital down the road.”
“But if he’s paralyzed he won’t be able to lead my team,” replied Mac.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mac,” she stated confidently but respectfully. “People with disabilities of all kinds go on to lead exceptional lives. The guy with prosthetic legs in the Olympics; or the brilliant physicist Stephen Hawking; or the Governor of Texas who was jogging and had a tree branch fall on his back, paralyzing him from the waist down. What was his name?”
“Greg Abbott,” said Mac, without thinking. He knew politics back and forth, not that it mattered
much anymore.
“OK, Sarah. I get your point. And if he can make it and stay alive, I will make it my mission to help him run his post. I had forgotten about Hawking, but it goes to show that the mind is far more powerful than the body… Can I see Jimmy now?”
“Not a chance,” she said flatly. “It will be a long night for me, so go home and dream about us,” she said, kissing him. “I’ll radio you if there are any changes.”
* * * *
Mac returned to the Ranch, stopping by Cory’s place to fill him in.
“We’ll take it a day at a time,” Mac told him. “Hopefully your officers will make it back with their families and we can start dividing up the teams. I’ll want your three split up to balance everything out.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” agreed Cory, “and just let me know what you want to do with the Miller boy.”
“I had forgotten about that, with everything going on,” acknowledged Mac. “We can discuss it tomorrow. I’m getting supper-to-go and going to bed early tonight.”
Bo was happy, as always, to see Mac come home, waiting on the front porch of their small cottage.
* * * *
That night Mac dreamt of unpleasant things he couldn’t put his finger on. He was reminded of a dream he had each year on his birthday, from age 8-13, he guessed. The dream was always the same—an indescribable force consuming the land, like locusts rolling across the open countryside, crushing everything in their path. Was this the same dream? He couldn’t remember.
Waking up in the middle of the night, he called out her name, “Sarah!” over and over. Bo barked twice, snapping him back to reality. He realized he was sweating, with the top sheet kicked off
somewhere in the dark room.
Not being able to go back to sleep, he dressed quickly. He left Bo inside and ran a check on his overnight security detail, getting as close as he could without getting shot. He was surprised he hadn’t thought to do this before, but now it excited him to be the intruder in his own camp.
It didn’t take long to find the first security man asleep at his post, hunched over a crossword puzzle titled “Devas from the Nineties.”
“Madonna,” whispered Mac, as a few of the letters were already filled in. The clue read “What pop singer living in New York City in the 1970s claimed she lived mostly on popcorn?”
Mac shook his unsuspecting man side-to-side, getting a scream out of him.
“Go home,” Mac commanded. “If you’re going to sleep, then you might as well be in your bed.”
Walking the property, he saw most of his men doing their job, although he still moved undetected.
Only one was found listening to a Walkman stereo from the Faraday cage. His headphones were on and Mac could hear the loud noise at 20 yards. Walking up behind him, not having to be quiet and seeing the man’s weapon laid haphazardly on the ground several feet away, Mac made his move.
Wrapping his right arm swiftly around the man’s neck, Mac squeezed just enough for the scare of the man’s life. With the headphones knocked off of his head, the music was even louder.
Mac could tell it was an old cassette tape of a band called Aerosmith as the high-pitched lyrics “Dream on…dream on” invaded the otherwise silent night.
Letting the man up, Mac asked how he could possibly be effective on security while listening to music. He sent him home as well, frustrated that even after an eight-hour training only days ago, he would find two of his men ineffective at their posts.
That settled it. Mac would be up for the night.
* * * *
Cory met with an agitated and now tired and grumpy Mac at breakfast.
Relating the night’s events to Cory, he questioned his own training of the men.
“That’s not it,” replied Cory. “I was there, and I know you did a great job. I’ve been involved in hundreds of training sessions over the years, and yours was top notch. No, the problem is training men who didn’t ask to be on security. It would be like me hiring a random civilian to join the police force. You can train them, sure, but if they don’t have a passion for the job, or at the very least an interest, then you get two guys like you saw last night. They are just going through the motions, punching the clock. They will shine like a quarter when they know you’re watching but will settle back into the bare minimum standards when left alone.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” replied Mac, feeling better about things.
“I’ll bet there are some men and women working other jobs who would love to trade for a security position,” added Mac.
“When the three return from Loveland, what would you think about a recruiting period for those interested in joining or staying on the team?” asked Cory. “You could even have me try out, as an example to the others.”
“It’s a great idea, minus the part about you,” replied Mac. “John, Bill, and the council have already decided your and Jimmy’s positions, as well as my own, so I don’t want to waste any time proving loyalty to the cause. With your help, however, we can run a weeklong boot camp and see who really wants the job.”
“What about the two guys from last night?” asked Cory.
“Well, before our little talk, I was going to fire them both this morning. Now I think I’ll give them a chance to earn their way back if they really want it. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“And if they don’t?” asked Cory.
“They will have to find another job here to contribute, and then it’s out of my hands. Let’s see if Dr. Melton will let us see Jimmy this morning,” added Mac.
* * * *
“No news is good news, I hope?” Mac asked Sarah, coming out to meet them in the lobby.
“He was treated with an anti-clotting medication within minutes of the episode,” she told them. “This greatly increases his chances of a near-full recovery, with some deficits still possible. You guys can see him now for a few minutes, but don’t get him riled up. He needs his rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Mac.
“This sucks,” said Jimmy, as they entered the room.
“What’s that?” asked Mac.
“The whole thing, being laid up here while everyone else is working.”
“I understand,” said Mac, putting a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.
Tears filled Jimmy’s eyes. “What’s next?” he asked. “I just lay here and let people wait on me hand and foot?”
“No, it’s not like that at all,” Mac told him. “John felt the same way when he was here, lying in this very same bed. He took the time to recover, and now he’s back in his old position, getting things done.
“You have a new position waiting for you but only when you’re ready. If you try to short-cut your recovery to come work with me, Sarah is going to kick my ass.”
That got a smile out of Jimmy. “I get it,” he said, with a long sigh. “It still sucks, though.”
Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind] Page 11