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Planet of the Leps: Beginnings Series Book 27

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by Jacqueline Druga




  PLANET OF THE LEPS

  Beginnings Book 27

  By

  Jacqueline Druga

  Planet of the LEPS

  Beginnings Book 27

  By Jacqueline Druga

  Copyright 2017 by Jacqueline Druga

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Thank you so very much to Kira for all your help with this book

  One

  It was the scream heard around the world and the shots that broke all spirit. A finely tuned, well planned sniper attack, its original intended victim physically unscathed. Elliott Ryder took the shots. But what seemed like a ‘miss’ actually had Johnny wondering if perhaps Elliott Ryder became the target at the last second.

  Johnny saw it coming, but he believed with all of his heart his quick senses and sight halted the attack. He was placed as a backup bodyguard for his father. Watching from the shadows, something he knew how to do well.

  A rolling black out issued in aiding Robbie also aided the shooter. Everyone knew the blackout was coming. Everyone believed it was maintenance.

  Robbie was working on the shooter investigation. Trying to find out not only who, but where the shooter was on the night of the Mardi Gras when Frank took the bullet.

  He needed the black out. So the thin beam of light that emerged from the bullet hole would guide Robbie to the shooter’s position.

  But as Robbie chased one position, Johnny locked on another.

  “He’s on the roof of the school,” Johnny said. He slipped from his hiding position, pulling a ruse, trying make the shooter unaware he was spotted.

  “I see him,” Elliott Ryder said.

  “Can you see who it is?” asked Hal.

  “I think. Does your father have anyone else out here watching Frank?” Elliott asked.

  “I don’t know. Who is it?”

  Bang,

  Before Elliott could identify his shooter, three shots rang out, all three hitting Elliott. Four men stood there and he took all three shots? Conveniently just before he named the person on the roof.

  Elliott was down.

  Two to the chest, one to the side of the head.

  “Dean’s not answering,” Frank yelled. “Roy run to his house.”

  “Robbie, call Dad.”

  What they said, what they did, Johnny didn’t know. The voices and happenings faded for Johnny. His focus was on Elliott. He couldn’t see or make out the severity of the injuries, it was too dark.

  He did know it wasn’t good. Blood poured from Elliott at an alarming rate. While Hal lifted his best friend with heartbreaking sadness and carried him to the clinic, Johnny ran top speed ahead.

  At the very least he needed to start and get the bleeding under control. He had the knowledge to help Elliott and would do what he could until Dean arrived.

  Patrick was the night nurse and was in the hall when Johnny flew in.

  “I heard shots.” Patrick said.

  Johnny spoke as he moved down the hall. “I’m prepping OR 3. Meet me there. I need the PCRS and Dean’s healing agent.”

  “I don’t know how much of the healing agent he uses.” Patrick said.

  “Get it. Hopefully Dean will be here by then. Also, find Sergeant Ryder’s blood type. We need two units.”

  “Sergeant Ryder?”

  At that second the door opened and Hal carried in Elliott. Immediately Patrick whipped forth a gurney that waited in the hall.

  Johnny kept running, “Bring him to OR 3.” He didn’t look back and trusted Hal and Patrick would get him there.

  It had been a long time since Johnny had done anything remotely medical in the Beginnings clinic. He only hoped that they hadn’t changed things. Operating Room 3 was always the one ready to go in case of emergency. It needed the least attention.

  He flipped on the light upon entering, went to the sink and began washing up.

  Hal and Patrick rushed in with the cart. Johnny looked over his shoulder.

  “Put him on the table.”

  Hal and Patrick did.

  “I’ll go get the supplies.” Patrick stated as he hurriedly left.

  Johnny rushed over to the table to examine Elliott. “Get that light.” Johnny asked Hal, then motioned his head to the lamp above the table.

  It lit up.

  Elliott was pale, and slipped into unconsciousness, yet was still alive.

  “Johnny?” Hal said with question.

  Johnny pulled forth prepared tray of supplies, it had what he needed for the immediate moment. “Hold on, Sgt. Ryder, just hold on. Please.”

  <><><><>

  “Goddamn it, I knew I heard shots.” Joe hurriedly put on his shoes, his shirt was still unbuttoned from being roused out of bed.

  “We thought it was best just to get you,” Robbie said. “Dad, it’s bad.”

  Joe closed his eyes briefly. “Of all people, son of a bitch.”

  Andrea came from the hall. “Denny will keep an eye on Katie. Dean will need all the hands he can get. Poor Elliott.”

  “Dean’s not there,” Robbie replied. “Roy’s getting him now. We couldn’t reach him on the phone and we didn’t want to radio this.”

  Andrea gasped. “Sweet Jesus who is with him? Jason?”

  “Johnny.”

  Andrea nodded and moved to the door and wasted no time leaving...

  “Where’s Frank?” Joe asked, following Robbie in their exit.

  “Securing the town, calling the men, we are shut down. No one gets in or out.”

  “Jimmy?”

  “On shift in communications.” Robbie answered.

  “Damn it, who is running Bowman?”

  “Owens.”

  “Get the phone, call George, tell him to personally break the news to Owens and handle Bowman with Owens until this is settled.”

  Robbie stopped wai3ling. “You want to give George power in a town.”

  “When a crisis happens, clear cut leadership needs to stand forward. Owens as good as he is, is not that Leadership.”

  Robbie nodded his understanding.

  Joe took a look back at Ellen and Dean’s house. He debated on waiting, but opted against it. Andrea had already picked up the pace and was far ahead of them. Getting Andrea to the clinic was important.

  Joe’s mind was spinning. Suddenly what was believed to be a drunken accidental discharge of a weapon at a party, ended up being a chase for an assassin.

  Someone in Beginnings wanted Frank dead, they upped the ante and weren’t playing around.

  Now neither was Joe.

  <><><><>

  It was made of a leather type material, thick and large and it sat on the dining room table in Ellen’s home.

  “Any guesses?” Ellen asked Dean.

  “It’s heavy.”

  “I can’t believe Frank did not go through the future LEP’s bag.”

  “He wanted us to do the honors,” Dean said.

  “I’m pretty excited, I want to examine each piece.”

  “Oh, me too. And by the way, great idea to put that Jenny picture in the holding room with Bart.”

  “Bob.”

  “Is it?”

  “I don’t know. We should just call him Lep. So much easier to remember.”

  “It is.”

  Dean’ looked up suddenly, when the front door opened. Roy without knocking rushed in.

  “Roy?” Dean stood.

  “Where is your phone?”

  Dean loo
ked down. “Shit it’s dead.”

  “I’ll stay with the children. You need to go to the clinic. Hurry.”

  “What happened?” Ellen asked.

  “Elliott Ryder has been shot.”

  <><><><>

  There were more people out and about, gathering in front of their homes, in center town, than Joe expected to see. Dan was trying to get them back to their homes.

  Everyone wanted to know what was going on.

  The large puddle of blood in the street sank Joe’s stomach with a sickening feeling.

  “Hey, Dad.” Frank approached him. “Anyone hear anything about Ryder.”

  “Nothing,” Joe said. “I came right here. What do you have?”

  “Shooter was on the roof of the school,” Frank said. “Took advantage of the black out and got up there. Johnny saw the figure and tried to warn us.”

  “Did he see who it was?” Joe asked.

  “Negative.” Frank shook his head. “I checked the school and had my men everywhere. Whoever it was took off when we were dealing with Ryder. I even wasn’t focused.”

  Joe reached out and laid his hand on Frank’s shoulder “That is understandable. Did you pick up a scent?”

  Frank shook his head.

  “And none of you saw the shooter.”

  “Yeah, one of us did.” Frank replied. “Elliott.”

  “When he wakes up we’ll know,” Joe said with certainty.

  “Right now I have all gates shut down. No one gets in or out.”

  “Where’s Danny?” Joe asked.

  “He’s checking phones, communications; social media to see who may have been up and possibly saw something.”

  Joe turned to Robbie. “What about you? You were chasing that beam.”

  “We did,” Robbie replied. “And we followed it. It doesn’t make sense, it’s wrong and it’s not the shooter.”

  “Who was it?” Joe asked.

  “Ben from Fabrics.”

  “Christ,” Joe exhaled. “We know it wasn’t him he was dancing. So was Todd.”

  “Came from his second floor window,” Robbie said.

  “Prints?”

  “I’ll get on it. As soon as I can get in there.”

  “Dad,” Frank said. “Could you not hang around and go to the clinic. I got this and I’m worried about Hal.”

  “You’re right. I’ll leave you boys be. Radio silence on this one. We got enough people out here we don’t need the community in an uproar and scared. If you hear anything …”

  “We’ll find you,” Frank said.

  “And no posting on social media.”

  “Got it.”

  Joe turned.

  “Dad.”

  Joe stopped and looked back.

  “Let me know what’s going on.”

  Joe winked. “I’ll find out.”

  Every available man was out and about, looking for the shooter, problem was, any of those men could have been the shooter and that worried Joe.

  He was sick about it all. It was something he just didn’t imagine would happen in Beginnings. With that heavy on his mind, Joe headed to the clinic to face the other thing heavy on his mind and heart … Hal.

  TWO

  “Jesus.” That was George’s first and only thought. It took a second for him to process it all. Robbie called, said according to his father, George was now in charge of Bowman. Elliott Ryder had been shot and it wasn’t good.

  “He wants you to handle things,” Robbie said. “Tell Owens, inform the men and keep Bowman running until Hal is able to.”

  “Absolutely, and Robbie, keep me posted.”

  George hung up the phone.

  He had just gotten ready for bed, planned on laying back and reading the posts on the new social media. He looked forward to Danny opening it up to the east, then things would get interesting.

  Instead he found himself seeking out Sgt. Owens to tell him the news. He was certain Owens would want to go to Beginnings. However, according to Robbie it was on lock down. No one in and no one out.

  George gave the situation great thought as he got dressed and made his way to find Owens.

  He knew Frank was in danger, hence why Johnny was following his father. What he didn’t expect was such a bold move by the would-be killer. To take a shot at Frank in the middle of Beginnings was far too bold for George’s liking.

  In fact, every recent attempt on Frank’s life was bold and sloppy. It was almost as if the killer or would be killer didn’t care if he got caught as long as he got the job done.

  But why? If anyone knew about plotting and planning it was George.

  Like those who used to work for him when he was on the wrong side of the fence with Beginnings, there was a reason for bold move. The potential killer had nothing to lose or had an escape plan.

  That was well and fine and worked out well when the Society and Beginnings were enemies. But the shooter was from one of the provinces, where would he go? Who was he working for? He kept going to the pending Great War until he passed Ben from Fabric’s Unique Boutique.

  George stopped looking at the merchandise in the window.

  One piece was called an antique from the seventies. A digital clock.

  It hit George. It wasn’t a matter of where the shooter would go, more than likely, it was a possibility of ‘when’. In the world now it wasn’t just north, south, east and west. It was past and future, as well.

  <><><>

  Hal felt drawn and desperate. Every ounce of his soul was in a painful pause, as he sat in the clinic waiting area, doing just that … waiting.

  He had paced and sat. Grew angry then sad. Johnny was the first to work on him, then without saying a word, Andrea raced by. Within a few minutes, Ellen and Dean ran in.

  None of them said a word or looked at him. In fact, no one came out.

  The clock was clicking by and with each passing second, Hal was more concerned.

  What would he do if he lost Elliott? Elliott Ryder wasn’t just his right hand man, he was his best friend. He loved him. Hal was lost. He stared down at his hands, still covered in blood. In fact, his whole body was covered in blood. He hadn’t cleaned up because he didn’t want to take a chance of leaving, even for a minute.

  “Hal,” Joe called out softly.

  It was a huge sigh of relief to hear his father, Hal stood. “Dad.” He grabbed on to Joe and embraced him.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “Horrible. I know nothing. It’s driving me nuts. He … his last words to me were a thank you.”

  “Nah, Hal, that wasn’t his last words. I believe that. He has the dream team working on him. He’ll get through this.”

  “But why haven’t I heard anything.”

  “No news is good news.” Joe squeezed Hal’s shoulder and walked him to the seats. “I’ll sit here and wait with you, that way ….”

  Bleep.

  After a quirky look, Joe grabbed his phone. “Christ.”

  “What?”

  “Why am I getting text messages? I told Danny I didn’t want them.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Jenny. She says …” He pulled the phone down and out trying to read it, he had left his glasses at home. “Trying to get people calm … can I …” Joe grunted. “I can’t read these letters.”

  “Just send a ‘K’. That will handle it for now.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Joe hit the single letter K and then send. After he took a seat next to his son and waited.

  <><><>

  “Almost there,” Dean, in surgical position, worked on the one entry wound on Elliott’s chest. “El, suction.”

  Ellen moved the suction instrument forward.

  “Better,” Dean said.

  “Andrea, vitals.”

  “Stable and good.”

  “Just missed the aorta,” Dean said. “Johnny, nice job getting the one from the lung.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I see it.” Dean blinked several tim
es. “The bitch is near the spine.”

  “Can you get it?” Ellen asked.

  Dean flinched. “Not sure. I think … you know what? I’m confident. Because had that head shot been a millimeter to the left, I wouldn’t be operating on him.”

  “I know you used to be an atheist,” Andrea said. “I hope this reiterates why you found Jesus.”

  “I didn’t Roy did and I always knew where he was,” Dean took a deep breath. “Oh, yeah. Got it.” Slowly he removed the instrument and held up the shell. “Looks intact. Didn’t break off.”

  Ellen exhaled. “Any damage?”

  “Not that I know of right now. He’s pretty resilient. It’s actually surprising me how well his body is doing,” Dean said.

  “Beautiful job, Doctor.” Andrea said.

  “Well, had it not been for Johnny’s quick actions. I don’t think I would have had to operate.” He looked up. “Johnny, we’re gonna finish up, if you wanna …” Dean paused.

  “What?” Johnny asked panicked.

  “Dean?” Ellen called his name.

  “Is that … is that my healing agent in that IV bottle.”

  Johnny looked. “Yeah.”

  Dean peeped a shriek.

  “What?” Johnny asked.

  “You have it as an IV drip?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know how much to give. I figured he wouldn’t be done with it anyhow by the time you finished and you could adjust.”

  Dean released an emotional chuckle.

  “Oh my God,” Johnny said. “I didn’t know anything about it. I’m not gonna be the cause of his death am I?”

  “No. No.” Dean shook his head. “It’s fine. Fine. Can you go tell your uncle about Elliott’s progress?”

  “Absolutely.” Johnny backed up.

  “Johnny,” Ellen called him. “Thanks again.”

  After Johnny left the OR, Dean cleared his throat. “Andrea, can you uh … shut off that drip please. Thanks.”

  Ellen leaned to him. “Have we ever done a drip?”

  “No. We did a small wash on Joe with about a tenth of the amount.”

  Andrea gasped. “Sweet Jesus. Half the bottle is gone. How much would you have given him?”

  “After the surgery,” Dean shrugged. “About a half of CC.”

 

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