by S. R. Rashad
Jim, Bill and Jen arrive at St. John’s Hospital hoping for the best. Laura and another victim have both been rushed to the ER. Everything has been prepped and ready for them, by the emergency medical team as they arrive. One of the ER nurses hurries past the waiting attorneys…
“Excuse me nurse.” Bill stops her in her tracks as he grabs her shoulder. “Our friend was one of the shooting victims just brought in. How is she?” He says.
“What's her name?” The nurse asks.
“Laura, Laura Danger.”
“I’ll have someone come to you as soon as we can. Please have a seat, for now. There's a lot that needs to be done, right now. Thanks.”
“Thanks, nurse. We’ll be waiting.” Bill says.
Jen is so nervous and filled with so much anxiety that she can't even speak. Jim paces nervously. Bill tries to reassure the two of them…
“Ok, we don't know anything yet. So I think it best if we don't jump to any fore-drawn conclusion. What do you two say. I mean we know Danger is a fighter and there is no way we should assume she'll let a damn bullet stop her.”
“You’re right, Bill. Our girl is a fighter. I'm sure you're right. She won't let this be the last of her. You’re right.” Jim says this more for himself. He wants to believe, but his fear and worry is eating away at his resolve. Jen has yet to even register what the others are talking about. She seems to be far away, as she sits in a chair motionless, staring at the door that leads to the ER, simply waiting for Laura to walk through or for a doctor to appear with the best possible news.
The shooter got away too easily. This is troubling. How can it be. It is as though he is a ghost. The trail goes cold immediately. First, a serial killer is set free. Now, a crazed vigilante is on the loose. The police and the DA aren't pleased with these turns of events, for sure.
Sgt. Roberts’ team is concerned about the future of the Taskforce and the future of their leader. Too much has happened for there to be any doubt that the DA and the captain are not going to be out looking to lay down severe disciplinary actions. No one has seen the Sgt. since he stormed out of the DA’s office. The captain isn't happy with the possible criminal behavior of his most trusted team leader. He knows now his entire department and their practices over the years will be under heavy scrutiny by the DA, Internal Affairs, the Media and the Public.
Laura’s body immediately went into shock from the rapid loss of oxygenated blood; death almost always follows if not given massive doses of oxygen immediately, but the quick work of the rapid response team, reversed her condition. When they reached the hospital, the emergency medical team induce a medical coma. Since her body just underwent shock, they thought it would be the best way to stabilize her system, and give her body a fighting chance to do its work as she undergoes the long hours of surgery ahead. The doctors want to make certain they can repair all the major damage caused to the organs, by the bullet and bone fragments, first. Her friends and colleagues have been in the waiting area through most of her emergence care. A considerable time has passed, and the fact that they haven’t heard any news is troubling. Jim and Bill want answers. They decide to head to the Chief of surgery, or to the Head of ER, someone in authority. There must be someone who can tell them something. Jen remains behind. She doesn’t dare leave the waiting area. She waits and prays.
Chapter 14
Vigilantes are people too.
He makes his way back to a small house he rents in Queens, where he has been an ideal tenant. He’s quiet. He’s clean. He doesn't have crowds over or throws any parties. When something breaks or needs repair around the house, he takes care of it himself, never troubling the landlord. Additionally, he always pays his rent on time. And his old world Polish landlord enjoys the fact that he pays in cash; an envelop stuffed with hundreds is placed in his landlord’s mail box, on the first of every month, like clockwork. So the landlord is quite content with him as a tenant, giving him the free range and the isolation he needs. Living here is perfect. No one, not even the neighbors, bothers him, leaving him alone to do his work.
He has been following the monster for years. He knew it would be a matter of time before the police caught him. After all, it was he who left all the clues, anonymously helping the law all along the way. On occasion, he followed the monster and saw where he hid or dumped evidence. He would dig it up, retrieve it, or recover it and put it in plain sight for the cops to find. Other times he would call in or mail in anonymous tips. But with this inadequate arrest, the police messed things up big time, forcing him to take a much more out in the open, proactive role. He didn't want to become a vigilante but he had no choice. Now he must use all he knows to end the doctor’s reign of terror. He is certain, his special training and skill with weapons and tactics makes him quite apt to take on this new role. He just shot and killed one, and two others have been severely wounded. This troubles him deeply. He wishes he could rewrite that wrong, but he is going to have to live with it, casualties of war. And no mistake, this is war. He knows now that he has to keep going. He can't rest until the monster is dead. He can't trust police work anymore. He tried that, and the monster is free. Not on his watch, can this be left to chance, or clumsy police work.
He knows how the monster moves. How he thinks and he can track him as proven by his record of showing up to most of the doc’s crime scenes. So he is not too worried that the doctor slipped away. His main concern is getting to him before he finds another victim. The courts freed him and he knows the monster won’t stop. The creep enjoys what he does and he knows this now. And he has made a vow to stop this madman. He will live up to it. He must.
He has boxes of material on the doctor. The wall he set up in his garage, is his go to chart; it maps and chronologies the movements of the doctor. Everything is color coded and alphabetized. He has video and audio recordings. He has the names of most the doctor’s known victims. The evolution of the doctor’s killing techniques. He understands the doctor’s methodology. He knows most of the doctor’s hiding places and most helpful, he knows the whereabouts of the few friends and family the doctor has.
He has been shot. Right now, this is his primary concern. He was able to do some field triage in his car, immediately after being shot. But now that he’s home. He has better medical supplies in his med-kit, in the basement. The first thing he wants, is to remove the bullet. He fears that if he allows the wound to heal with the bullet still in his shoulder, the scar tissue that will form around the bullet will make it difficult for him to move his arm fluidly, or shoot his weapon with accuracy in the future. So, the bullet has gotta go. He sets up a makeshift operating table with overhead light, mirror, surgical scalpels, alcohol, bandages, and trusty ibuprofen for the pain.
He rips into the wound with the scalpel and a pair of needle-nose pliers. Good thing the bullet isn't lodged too deeply, allowing him the ability to retrieve it easily, just a little deeper and he would have had to fish around awhile, possibly causing more damage. But, the bullet is out, and no shrapnel floating around. He pours a little alcohol on the wound, and cleans it thoroughly, then wraps and bandages it, takes a handful of ibuprofen and he is ready to get back to work.
He believes the doctor will first try to return to Michigan. So he will go to Michigan. His concern for the two surviving gunshot victims is great. He needs to know they will pull through, before leaving for Michigan. He plans on visiting the Hospital. He walks into a small room in the basement where he keeps items that help him blend in, allowing him to move through places unnoticed. He has a policeman’s uniform, a fireman’s, a doctor’s, paramedic’s, a priest’s and a few other outfits and disguises. Over the years following the doctor, he has gotten better and better at disguising himself. He even took a few classes at a local Community College to aid him in his transformations. His special effects make up courses and voice acting classes have proven to be most handy. He has come within a few feet of the doctor and has not once been recognized or triggered any suspicion.
Lau
ra’s worried and anxious friends and colleagues finally meet with Dr. Singh, the surgeon who led the team conducting the emergence surgery.
“Hello doctor, Laura Danger? How’s she doing?” Jim says with deep concern.
“I understand this must be traumatic for you.” Dr. Singh says as he looks directly at Jen, obviously the more distraught of the group.
“Yes, we are all deeply concerned.” Bill speaks up, taking a commanding lead for all.
“And rightfully so, but I can tell you that the surgery was a success, all the bone and bullet fragments have completely been removed and her condition is stable. We still need to monitor her closely for awhile. She is in a medically induced coma. It was necessary because of the severity of the injuries, pain and shock to her system. So, let us keep a close eye on her and shortly, we’ll move her to a recovery room and you can visit with her. For now, if you want, you can look in on her through the ICU window. A nurse will be out to take you shortly. Thanks for your cooperation, I'm sorry this happened, but things are looking quite good.”
“Ok, thank you, doc.” Bill and Jim say in unison.
He stands in front of the mirror admiring his handy work. The stitch work is acceptable. The bleeding has stopped. There’re fresh new bandages and the ibuprofen is helping. He cuts off his beard and mustache, going for a more clean shaved look as he believes his new disguise calls for it. Additionally, he trims and dyes his hair, and puts in a set of contacts. Then he looks for the most under the radar outfit he can find. He thinks he’s found it. One last look at his getup, perfect. He can barely recognize himself. Now, to the hospital, to check on the condition of the two survivors. It’s risky but his conscience won't let him do otherwise.
Jen has been siting or standing in front of that ICU window for hours. Bill and Jim needed to get back to the office to meet with clients. But Jen couldn’t bear to pull herself away. She just watches her mentor, friend and colleague lying there, looking as helpless as a new born bebe. She finds this eerie and odd. The most feisty and opinionated person she knows, is in a state of quiet helplessness. Jen wonders what Laura will be like when she recovers. Will she be the Laura she admires or will she forever be some helpless bebe. This is a weird thought for her to have but she fears what Laura will be like now. She thinks she sees Laura beginning to stir. Yes, she is waking up. Jen calls for the doctor or a nurse…
“Help…can someone come quick!” she says.
Then she looks around and sees there’s no one at the desk. Jen runs around looking for help. She goes down the hall, sees there is an open break room door. She goes in and talks with the nurses there.
Back in the ICU…
“I hope you’ll be fine, miss.” The voice coming from the shadows, near the foot of her bed, says.
Laura looks up dazed and groggy, everything is quite blurry. He stares at her as she motions for help with her oxygen mask, she wants it off, so she can speak...
He walks closer to her.
“Here, let me help you with that, miss.” He says, then gently pulls off her mask.
“Thanks,” she struggles to speak, looking oddly at the agent. She finds it difficult to make out his features, being that, the room is dim and he keeps standing in the shadows.
“I don’t think this is the perfect time to question me, special agent?” She can tell by the way he’s dressed and his stiff, robotic posture and clean cut appearance that he’s not a detective, but his mannerisms do suggest law enforcement, FBI she believes, “What is your name?” She says barely audible.
“I’m Special Agent Jenkins, Ms. Danger…And you are right. I should let you rest but I’ll have questions for you later.” He got what he came for. He just needed to know that she was gonna pull through.
“Yea, sure.”
He exits the room and runs into Jen and an ICU nurse.
“Hello, sir. You can’t be in here.” The nurse says.
He shows his badge…
“Special Agent Jenkins, ma’am. I just need to ask Ms. Danger a few question.”
“Please, special agent Jenkins. Not now, Ms. Danger needs time to recover.” The nurse says.
“I can see.” He says, “And, she’s recovering nicely. I hope.”
“Yes, she’ll be fine. We believe, but she is still in a difficult stage.”
“I see and there is another victim?”
“Yes, he checked himself out…the bullet mostly nicked his side, a few stitches is all.” She says
“So, he’s fine and I can speak with him.”
“Yes, if you can reach him.”
“Great, you have been helpful.”
Then he leaves, heading for the elevator.
"Hey Laura, how are you feeling?" Jen asks
“Shit, like I got hit by a mack truck. Everything hurts.” The pain is making it hard for Laura to get her words out.
“I’ll call Dr. Singh, to see if you are ready to be moved.” The nurse says.
“Great,” Jen says.
“Jen, how are you, lady?” Laura asks
“How am i…What do you mean?”
Laura looks at all the tubes, wires, breathing apparatus, heart monitor and begins to feel the seriousness of her condition and starts to feel a little sorry for herself…
“I know…” Laura starts, but has long pauses in between her words, “it can’t be…” she struggles, “… easy for you seeing me like this.”
“Laura, it isn’t easy but I’m fine. You need to stop talking. You have nothing to prove, ok?”
“Ok, Jen…you are in charge, enough from me.” Says Laura with a painful grimace on her face.
“Hey you two, I’m gonna have to stop you, for now. There will be plenty of time to chat later, ok.” The nurse says firmly… “And why is your mask off anyway. Here, lay back. Let me get this for you.” The nurse tucks Laura back in and puts the mask back on her.
“Bye, Laura. I’ll see you later.”
Laura struggles to wave bye. Jen leaves, feeling better knowing Laura is, for the most part, fine.
He makes it to the elevator. As he is about to press the call button, he decides the stairs might be best, not knowing who would be on the elevator. And the fact that, he would be trapped there. It's just too risky. He approaches the doors that open to the staircase and sees two young officers coming toward him from the other side of the doors. He can't risk stopping and turning around now, as it may draw too much attention. He’ll have to just continue going forward, hoping for the best. At the last minute, he decides to turn his head away from the officers. There's still no need for them to get a good look at him. He tilts his head and grabs his ear, pretending to talk into an ear piece…
As he makes it past, he overhears one officer say to the other…
“Fed?”
“Right…I think after a few more years on the force, I’m gonna try out for the Feds.”
“Not me, buddy. I'm sticking with the department but they are cool though.”
He smiles and continues down the stairs. He is starting to enjoy this. He is getting better at this. He finds he is slipping away more easily. He takes pride in the hours of work he has put into learning to be invisible and attracting as little attention as possible.
So the people who were shot, appear to be recovering, at least. Now, to his home to get what he needs for his trip to Michigan.
There is a panel on the wall in his changing room that opens to reveal a mini arsenal of weapons, explosives, poisons and an assortment of random, needed things; duct tape, chicken wire, blow torch. He hates that he has to be this guy, but someone has to. He loads his truck with weapons, a few more disguises, fresh bandages, his med-kit and morphine; he hates the stuff but he knows sometimes the pain from fresh wounds can be too great and he needs to keep going. It’s a long drive from here to Michigan. And he wants to bring his A game this time, no more slip ups, no more injured people and definitely no deaths, except for the doctor’s of course.
Chapter 15
&
nbsp; You can't go home again
The trip from New York to Michigan is brutal by bus. Peter has been uncomfortable for almost thirty hours. Tired, exhausted, wary of new faces, he dares not sleep. He knows, he is being targeted now, and this keeps him up. He must stay on alert. Even if, he wants to sleep, the tiny cramped seats are extremely uncomfortable for his lanky six three frame. And oh the smells! his nose is under constant bombardment from obnoxious smells, the culinary faux pas disgusted as food, overly spiced or curried ethnic dishes, greasy fast food meals, all carried on by passengers, each time they hit a new rest stop, the bus is filled with new pungent aromas. But the combined smell of the unchanged babies and the dozens of two day old sweaty bodies is the most constant and offensive. Poor Peter trapped in this bus with its poor ventilation, cramped seats and loud chatty passengers on cell phones and personal listening devices whose volume is anything but personal, has pushed his patience to new limits. And he absolutely hates his disguise, the cheap costume beard and wig, itches something terrible and fits so awkwardly that it’s always sliding off a bit. The crap disguise is seeming more trouble than it's worth. The only good thing is, for the last few stops, no one has gotten on the bus, so the seat next to him remains open, allowing him the ability to stretch out a bit, small joys, at this point.
All Peter can think is that it's just a few more hours, then home. The bus pulls into the Flint, MI depot and the last three remaining seats get filled. Peter's empty seat gets a passenger…