Fatally Bound

by Roger Stelljes

  As he lay in bed contemplating whether to get up or try to sleep more, he heard voices downstairs. After a minute staring at the slowly rotating ceiling fan cooling the room and listening to the voices, he realized there were more voices than just the Judge, Sally and Wire. And the voices were familiar, and loud. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mac mumbled with his eyes closed but a small smile spreading across his face.

  Mac rolled to his right side, put his feet on the floor and stood up and immediately had to steady himself. The concussion was better. The heavy pounding had subsided to more of a really bad headache. The bright light filtering through the curtains wasn’t as bothersome as yesterday when he needed sunglasses and a blanket over his head to keep the light out while they drove to the estate. However, he still needed to move his battered body slowly as his entire torso ached.

  From inside his duffel bag he took out a pair of tan cargo shorts and navy blue golf shirt and gingerly pulled them on. Dressed, he eased his way out of the bedroom and descended slowly down the winding staircase, keeping his right hand tightly on the banister. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed three small suitcases and a duffel bag resting by the front door in the foyer.

  In the large kitchen and eating area to the right of the staircase, sitting around a long table, drinking coffee and dining on pastries with Sally, the Judge and Wire were Lich, Rockford, Riley and one other man. They all turned to see Mac standing in the archway of the kitchen. Mac was sporting a heavy cast on his left wrist, dark bruising on the left side of his neck, a swollen lip and two red, purple and yellowish puffy, bruised and barely open black eyes.

  “Our boy is alive!” Riley cheered loudly with a big smile.

  “Hey man,” Rock said, standing up and walking over to shake his hand, his big black paw swallowing Mac’s good right hand. “How are you buddy?” the big man asked softly with concern as he carefully guided Mac over to an open chair at the head of the table.

  Lich expressed his concern as well, “You look grotesque,” he exclaimed with a big smile on his face, walking over to slap him on the back, which caused Mac to wince, “Oh man, sorry, Mac.”

  Mac grimaced a smile. “It’s okay,” he said as he slowly sat down into the chair and looked around the table. “Not that I’m not happy to see you guys, but what in the hell are you doing here?” he asked in a scratchy voice, almost a croak.

  “I’ve learned over the years,” the Judge explained with a knowing tone, “that when times get a little tough, it’s good to have some Minnesota around.”

  “The doctor said you need some time to rest and heal. I can only stay out here for another day,” Sally added, hugging him softly and kissing him on the cheek. “The Judge thought why not fly these guys out for a few days to keep you company.”

  “Mac,” Wire said, pointing to a man sitting to her left, “this is my brother Dominic.”

  Mac gingerly stood up and extended his right hand, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dominic.”

  “You might like me anyway,” Dominic Wire answered with a smile and everyone laughed.

  “I figured Dara could use a shoulder to lean on as well,” the Judge answered. “You two need to rest for a day, maybe two, and get yourself together. That son of a bitch is still out there and I don’t think he’ll be caught without you two.”

  “So we’re still part of the investigation?” Mac asked.

  “Yes,” the Judge replied. “But FBI Director Mitchell is wisely going to keep you guys out of the limelight. That little incident at the Fallway Clinic is causing a few political fires we’ve had to extinguish, which neither of you should concern yourselves with, they weren’t your fault. Sally and I and our friends at the White House will take care of that. But, everyone in town is wondering where the heck you two are. I think we should keep it that way for a while.”

  “Let them wonder,” Mac retorted and then looked to his friends. “But you guys didn’t need to pay to fly out here for me. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

  “No offense, Mac,” Rock noted, tapping Mac’s cast and pointing to his head, “but you don’t look fine, buddy. You look like you got run over by a Freightliner.”

  “Besides, we didn’t pay to fly out here. I like you, but I don’t like you that much,” Lich quipped with a big smile, causing the entire room to laugh again and keep the mood light.

  “I have a friend or two who owed me a favor and were more than happy to provide their corporate jet to get the boys in,” the Judge explained.

  “Mac, that plane was waaaay cool,” Rock exclaimed like a little boy, a man not accustomed to experiencing how the other half lived. “I sat on a couch all the way here drinking not good, not great, but awesome, and I mean awesome, bourbon. You gotta get your ass kicked more often.”

  “Thanks. Rock, I’m touched, really,” Mac replied ruefully. “But seriously, is it okay for you guys to be away?”

  “Chief said no worries,” Riles answered. “He sends his regards, by the way. Look, things are pretty quiet back home now that the home invasion crew has been taken care of.”

  “What about these gang fights and flash mobs I’m hearing about on the East Side?”

  “That’s under control. We have people on that and the one homicide is closed.” Riley turned serious. “Mac, right now, all we’re worried about is you there, my friend. I hate to agree with Dick Lick but, ah … you’ve looked better. Are the eggs still scrambled?” Pat asked, pointing to his head.

  “Not as. I just have a bad headache now, it isn’t throbbing as much and it’s getting easier to open my eyes.” Mac looked around the kitchen, “I think I could eat.”

  “That we can handle,” the Judge said, calling for the chef. For the next hour, everyone sat around the table talking and dining on pancakes, eggs and bacon.

  The pain medication for his broken wrist made him loopy. That, plus the effects of the concussion and just general soreness, caused Mac to spend most of the day in bed, getting up for only an hour or two at a time. Sally checked on him frequently, taking a long rest with him during the afternoon, plus the two of them needed to make some amends.

  “I’m glad I get to say I’m sorry,” Mac said quietly, his eyes closed.

  “Me too,” Sally answered. “When I got the phone call …” her voice trailed off.

  “I know. But I’m alive and I’ll be fine.”

  “Tell me about it?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  “Drew’s house and the fight with that man, tell me about all of it.”

  “You heard my explanation at the hospital, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you really want to hear it again?”

  “Yes,” she answered, sitting up on her left side, looking him in the eyes. “Tell me, and in this version, I want all the details.”

  “Look, Sally, I don’t want you feeling like this is in any way your fault …”

  “I … I … I don’t … really.”

  “BS,” Mac answered. “And it’s BS if you are feeling that way. I’m a big boy and I knew what I was getting into and I said yes. I could have said no and I said yes.”

  “I know,” Sally answered, her eyes watering, “It’s just that I pushed you …”

  “This is not on you,” Mac replied, sitting up, leaning on his right arm, facing her. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t beat yourself up about it; don’t give it another thought. This is not on you, do you understand me?”

  Sally nodded.

  “Do you still want me to tell you about it?”

  She nodded again.

  Mac laid back down on his back and ran through what happened at Drew’s house. He didn’t hold back, he told her everything. Sally just listened, only occasionally asking what happened next.

  “Be honest with me,” she asked. “I want to know what was going through your mind. Did you think you were going to die?”

  He didn’t answer right away, thinking through the answer. He shook his hea
d lightly. “I knew I was in trouble, babe. I knew I was hurt. I knew I was vulnerable, but when I came out of the fog and understood my situation, I didn’t think about dying. I thought about acting and I knew I had to and fast.”

  “When did you start carrying a second gun?”

  “When I went back home and worked the robbery case. After that election investigation, I figured I should start carrying something extra.”

  “Are you still carrying that switchblade?”

  “I haven’t been.”

  “What’s Leroy Jethro Gibbs Rule No. 9?” Sally asked quoting from NCIS, one of their favorite shows.

  “Don’t go anywhere without a knife.”

  “So?”

  “From now on I won’t go anywhere without a knife.”

  They rested silently for a while longer and then Sally asked, “Tell me about him … the Reaper.”

  “He kicked my ass.”

  “He got the jump on you.”

  “And he kicked my ass. I’m no easy mark. Wire’s no easy mark. He handled us like it was nothing, like he was batting away mosquitoes.”

  “He’s a big guy.”

  “He’s more than big. He’s a monster, Sally. The size, the viciousness, the strength and the way he just remorselessly pulled out the knife was scary. He was like the Hulk.”

  “He scares you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “He should scare anybody.”

  “Are you going to keep after him?”

  “I said he scares me and I now have a healthy respect for who I’m up against. But he should be scared too, because I’m not quitting. He gave me everything he’s got and I’m still standing.”

  Sally carefully laid her head across his chest and he wrapped his right arm around her. They didn’t say anything else for the rest of the afternoon, just resting. The pain medication was working on his wrist, the pain in that part of his body a mild irritant at this point, much less irritating than the cast itself. As for his head and neck, if he could just get them to settle down a little more he would feel a lot better. His friends were downstairs. They were here for him and he wanted to be with them.

  • • • •

  For Wire, she couldn’t get the fight with the Reaper out of her mind. It came to her in the hospital and again while trying to sleep at the estate. She didn’t want to close her eyes. The feeling of helplessness as she fought him, the inability to break free and fight him off, it just kept swirling around and around in her mind. The nightmares made her bolt awake in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, and when she realized it was just a nightmare, she would break down. It was only two nights but she was thinking she might have to get some therapy if it continued.

  Dominic kept watch over her, resting in a soft chair on the other side of the room, reading under a small lamp, a loaded Remington shotgun sitting at his feet. He wouldn’t need it, but Dara said it somehow made her feel better because that might be the only thing that could stop the Reaper if he came.

  “He’s not coming for you, sis,” Dominic said soothingly at 3:30 A.M. when she burst awake once again, the second time of the night. He walked over and sat down on the side of her bed.

  “You don’t know that,” Dara answered, breathing hard, sweat running down the side of her face. “He could be.”

  “He’s not, but if he does, I have that shotgun and before he got here he’d have to get through Mac’s friends. And let me tell you something, they came loaded for bear. You didn’t see the arsenal they arrived with, and I watched them go through and load that arsenal. I don’t see him getting through those boys, particularly Riley or Rockford; those two are not to be messed with.”

  “Neither is the Reaper.”

  After she’d calmed and it was clear she wanted to stay awake for a while, Dominic asked: “Do you wish you’d have said no when Dixon asked?”

  Dara didn’t respond immediately, looking away, out the dark window. “No. I owe the Judge.”

  “And he owes you, sis. He and the president are in the White House because of you and McRyan.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not in federal prison or the poor house thanks to him, so …”

  “So when the man calls …”

  “I answer. I have to. I always will.”

  “How about McRyan? Do you think he wishes he said no?”

  Dara shook her head, a small smile creasing her face, “No. He’s kind of funny, Dom. He puts up this front sometimes about how he doesn’t need this or got talked into that, but …” she shook her head. “Mac man thrives on the hunt. Once he’s into the case he’s like a dog with a bone, he ain’t giving it up.”

  “He might want to now.”

  “No way. He’s licking his wounds but he won’t back down. He’s just gonna be more pissed off.”

  “I suppose that means you won’t back down either?” Dominic asked, resignation in his voice.

  Dara shook her head, “I’m pissed off too.”

  • • • •

  The next morning Mac felt well enough to be up and about and joined everyone for a massive breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hashed browns, fruit and toast. Breakfast spanned the lunch hour, everyone opening up and having a good time, glad Mac could finally join them. He passed on the Bloody Marys and stuck with water, although he did sneak a sip from Lich’s drink when the fat man wasn’t looking.

  When the laughter and storytelling got particularly loud, Mac would wince a little in pain but for the most part he felt better and sat back and smiled as Rock, Riley and Lich swapped stories. Dominic Wire, a prosecutor in his own right, added a few of his own. Mac even joined in, adding some much needed context and self-defense when the punch line involved him. He must have said, “Now wait a minute, that’s not exactly what happened,” a half dozen times.

  Everyone steered clear of the Reaper case. It wasn’t hard to tell that Dominic and the boys were itching to talk about it, but not until Mac and Dara were ready, and they weren’t—not yet. After breakfast, Sally began to pack and get ready to go back to the White House. When she finished, Mac decided to plant a seed with her, something he’d been thinking about for a while.

  “Sally, there’s something I think we need to talk about. I don’t need you to answer right now, but I want you to think about it.”

  “Okay,” Sally replied warily, picking up on his tone and demeanor. This was serious. “What?”

  “What is our plan?”

  “Our plan?” She didn’t understand the question.

  “Yeah, you and me, do we have one? You and me, our future, what is our plan? Where are we going?”

  “Are you talking, you know, the ‘m’ word?” A word both of them rarely uttered. They more or less talked around it. Perhaps it was time for that to stop.

  Mac shrugged, “I don’t know. No … yes …, maybe, but not necessarily right now, but I mean, what is our plan? Is it Washington for four years? Eight years? Then what? Go home? Go somewhere else?”

  “What’s bringing this on?” Sally asked, sitting down next to Mac on the end of the bed.

  Mac looked to the floor, “I don’t know, Sal, maybe my life passing before my eyes? Maybe our knock-down, drag-out argument just before that happened? Maybe it’s that we’re closer to thirty-five than thirty? Maybe it’s you have something to get up and go to every day and I don’t? Maybe it’s that I don’t like operating without a plan and I don’t think we have a plan and it’s starting to freak me out?”

  “You did turn down a job from the FBI director, you know?”

  “I know, and I don’t regret it for a minute, but at the same time, other than this case, I feel a little adrift, which is okay, if I know eventually I’ll hit some dry land.” He looked Sally in the eye and could see her apprehension, “I don’t want you to be freaked out here.”

  “I’m not,” Sally answered, shaking her head, but he could tell she was at least a little nervous. “I’m not,” she said again, quietly.

  “Liar,” Mac replied, with a sma
ll smile, reaching for her hand, reaching for her chin and tipping it up for her eyes to meet his. “You’re scared of this and so am I, because what we have right now is so comfortable and so good and I’m not looking to change that. And I think … no, wait, I know we both want our future to be with each other, right?”

  Sally nodded, head still down.

  “I guess I’m wondering what that future is and all I’m asking is for you to think about it. We’ve never really talked about this. We’ve just kind of happily floated along. We’ve talked about talking about it, but if we’re really honest with each other, we’ve never had the real ‘talk.’ I think it’s time. Don’t you?”

  Sally smiled, her eyes moist, but she smiled and kissed him. “I’ve known this was probably coming, I’ve been expecting it and you’re right, we need to … talk about it. It’s just that it’s …”

  Mac nodded, “A little scary.”

  “Yeah.”

  After Sally left, Mac took a nap. In the midafternoon, when the boys and Dominic decided to go horseback riding, Mac and Wire took a walk along a riding trail to stretch their legs.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” Wire asked. Mac still looked tired and was moving slowly.

  “Yeah. I’m not as tired as I probably look, and I need some air and to move a little,” he answered, taking a sip from his bottle of water. “I just took some more meds, I’ll be good. Let’s just take it slow and easy.”

  They walked in silence for several minutes down the path, both sides with a white horse fence barrier.

  “How’s Sally?”

  “Fine.”

  “You two make up?”

  He looked to her, “We’re good. I took your advice, I said I was sorry.”

  “Good.”

  “I also told her this morning before she left that we needed to talk about what our plan is.”

  Wire stopped and stared him down, “And how did that go?”

  “Okay, I guess. She was a little freaked about it. Heck, I’m a little freaked about it.”