by C. G. Cooper
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He got back to the room a couple minutes later after stopping by the nurse’s station to get the phone messages. Cal grabbed the coffee and the inch thick stack of messages.
CAL: This many people called for me?
BRIAN: Yeah. You must be famous or something. I put what sounded like friends and family on the top and left the reporters and weirdoes on the bottom.
Brian left the room and Cal looked down at the top message. It was from Jess’s dad, Frank, earlier that morning. He thumbed through the rest and saw that Frank had called at least three times a day. Under those messages, was a bunch from his dad’s company: old friends checking to make sure he was ok. Sorry guys but you’ll have to wait a little bit longer.
He took a deep breath, picked up his cell phone and dialed Jess’s parents’ number by memory. Frank picked up after the first ring.
FRANK: Cal?
CAL: Hey, Frank…I…I…
FRANK: I know, son…”
Cal could hear the muted crying on the other end and that’s when he lost it.
CAL (heaving sobs): Frank, I am so sorry…so sorry…tried…sorry…
The tears and the sobs continued for a few minutes. It was the first time Cal had allowed himself to really grieve. In his mind he’d run this scene over and over before it happened, but now all his preparation was out the window. The depth of his grief and despair lay open.
He’d lost the love of his life. The one woman who’d understood him. The woman who could help him make sense of all the madness in the world. Now that beautiful woman was gone. He hated that the only picture he could remember of her was the final moment in the blood-soaked alley. No one should die in a place like that. Especially his wonderful Jess. I’m so sorry, Jess.
Once both men got their emotions somewhat under control, Jess’s father started again.
FRANK: Cal, are you ok?
How can he ask me something like that right now? Shouldn’t he be yelling and screaming at the man that got his daughter killed?
CAL: Yeah, I’m ok. Frank, I just want to say I’m sorry…
FRANK: It wasn’t your fault, son. You did your best. Jess wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.
CAL (in a whisper): I know.
FRANK: When can we come see you?
CAL: I’d really rather come to you guys. When’s Jess’s funeral?
FRANK: We were waiting to hear from you. When are they releasing you?
CAL: I’m not sure. I’ve got a couple other phone calls to make. Can I call you back when I know more?
FRANK: Sure. And, Cal?
CAL: Yeah.
FRANK: I love you, son.
Unable to respond, the tear-soaked Marine hung up the call and stared at the picture of his beloved Jess. He realized that not even a lifetime in battle could prepare you for the death of a loved one. The pit of emptiness he felt in his stomach threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to push it away and instead turned to the stack of handwritten phone messages.
The next calls were from his cousin, Travis Haden. Travis, a former Navy SEAL, ran Cal’s father’s company. He led the company with an interesting combination of charm and courage. His dirty blond hair and rugged good looks didn’t hurt with the ladies either. Despite their age difference of ten years, Cal and Travis were very close. The last time he’d seen Travis, they were trying to decide which engagement ring to buy for Jess.
He speed dialed Travis and waited for his cousin to answer.
TRAVIS: Cal?
CAL: Hey, Trav.
TRAVIS: Shit, man. What the hell is going on?! Why didn’t you return my calls? Me and some of the boys were about to raid the hospital!
CAL: I’ve had a lot on my mind, Trav.
TRAVIS (tenderly): Yeah, I know. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about Jess, cuz.
CAL: Thanks but I really don’t wanna talk about it.
TRAVIS: Ok. How about you? How are you feeling?
CAL: It’s never fun to be shot, but I’m doing ok.
TRAVIS: What are the doctors saying?
CAL: They say I need some physical therapy and want me to stay here for a couple weeks. Is there anything you can do about that?
Travis always seemed to know someone that could pull a few strings.
TRAVIS: I’ve already looked into it. How about we get you a ride in an ambulance back to the compound and have a doctor check on you a couple times a day?
Cal thought about the two thousand acre campus south of Nashville that housed Stokes Security International (SSI). It would be good to see it again.
CAL (brightening): I’d love it. I can even put up with any doctor if I can come home.
TRAVIS: You got it, Cal. Let me make some calls. You sit tight and I’ll call you back within the hour.
With that the phone went dead and Cal put it back on the nightstand.
The rest of the messages were from friends/employees within SSI so he decided to wait until he got back to the compound before talking to them.
True to his word Travis called back within the hour.
TRAVIS: So I talked to the hospital staff and they weren’t too happy about the situation but I explained that we’d have a doc to escort you back to the compound and that he’d be on-call twenty-four-seven.
CAL: Cool. Thanks for doing that.
TRAVIS: They only had one request. I guess they’ve got some male nurse taking care of you?
CAL: Yeah. Former corpsman. Good guy.
TRAVIS: Perfect. Can you get him on the phone?
CAL: Yeah, let me press the call button.
Cal reached over the side of the hospital bed and pressed the nurse call button. Thirty seconds later Brian walked into the room.
BRIAN: What’s up, Cal?
CAL: Hey, I need you to do me a favor. My cousin’s on the phone and he’s helping me get out of here. He needs to talk to you about some request the hospital’s made.
Brian tilted in head in confusion but nodded and grabbed the phone.
BRIAN: This is Brian Ramirez.
Cal watched as Brian nodded his head and grunted yes a couple times.
BRIAN: Yeah, I can take some time off.
Cal couldn’t hear the conversation but he had a feeling about what was coming.
BRIAN: Ok. I’ll see you soon.
Brian handed the phone back to Cal.
CAL: You wanna tell me what’s going on, Trav?
TRAVIS: Brian will fill you in on the details. We’re working to get the ball rolling and get you out of there today.
CAL: Awesome. Thanks again.
TRAVIS: No worries. I’ll see you soon.
Cal replaced the phone on the nightstand and looked at Brian.
CAL: What was that all about?
TRAVIS: Your cousin just hired me for a couple weeks.
CAL: He what?!
BRIAN: I guess the hospital would only let you out of here if one of their staff went along with you. Since I’ve been your wet nurse they figured I was a perfect fit. That way the hospital minimizes its legal exposure and you get good care. I’ve got some time off I can take anyway AND your cousin said he’d put me up in that compound place and pay me double what I make here. Any chicks in the compound?
CAL (laughing): Only one and you don’t want to mess with her.
BRIAN: Ok, then let me get some things together and I’ll pack up your stuff. Anything you need?
CAL: Any way I can avoid you being my babysitter?
BRIAN: Not if you want get out of this hospital. Just suck it up, Marine, and let me get paid.
Brian left Cal to his thoughts. Cal figured it wouldn’t be so bad having Brian around. He still couldn’t walk very well so having someone he knew pushing him around in a wheelchair might be ok. Plus, the compound was a big place and he’d have way more to do than sitting around the hospital. Hell, SSI was technically HIS company after all.
Chapter 8
Camp Spartan, Arrington, TN
The drive down from th
e city proved uneventful. Once the physician hired by Travis, Dr. Rich Hadley, had arrived everything seemed to move quickly. After some pointed questions to the new doctor, Cal found out that Dr. Hadley did not have what you would call a ‘normal’ medical practice. After successfully completing his double residency and fellowship in internal medicine and general surgery, Dr. Hadley had decided to take a left turn.
Instead of joining a hospital or private surgical practice, he became a concierge doctor for the country music stars in the Nashville area. It was “Music City” after all.
He struggled for the first couple years until he’d met Cal’s cousin Travis. Travis, being the social butterfly that he was, quickly became friends with outgoing and adventurous Dr. Hadley. Both were in their late thirties and had the luck of being endowed with rugged good looks. Both shared of love of two things: outdoors and women.
Between the pair they’d cut a wide swath within the ranks of the southern belles in Nashville.
Over time, Travis had introduced Dr. Hadley to his country music friends. In the past five years his private concierge practice had grown to include most of the respected country singer/songwriters in the area. Why go to a crowded clinic when you can call your own doctor?
Dr. Hadley had also been more than happy to help Travis and SSI on occasion. This was one of those times.
DR. HADLEY: Ok, Cal, we’re pulling into the compound. How are you feeling?
CAL: I’m good.
DR. HADLEY: Once we stop I’ll have some of the guys lower your stretcher down and roll you into the VIP quarters.
CAL: Travis is putting me in VIP?
DR. HADLEY: You’d rather he put you in one of the Quonset huts?
CAL: Not really.
DR. HADLEY: Good. Now make sure you don’t move around while they cart you in. Travis would be pissed if I delivered his favorite cousin in a bloody mess.
CAL (resignedly): Alright, Doc.
The ambulance pulled to a stop and Cal could hear the driver getting out of the cab and closing the door. The back doors were opened and Cal saw a couple of the roving security guards moving in to help lift the gurney out of the ambulance.
Cal looked around and felt the pull of home. He’d spent plenty of time in the compound that his father had christened Camp Spartan because of his fascination with the ancient warriors of Sparta and because it was a fairly accurate description of the spartan facilities.
Much of the compound was modeled after Marine Corps bases. You had headquarters and then separate buildings for each division. Battalions were located on the lower levels of their respective division.
Cal’s father had put a lot of time into hiring former military. He understood that these warriors craved the familiar look and feel of military surroundings. That’s not to say that the grounds weren’t state of the art. Cal Sr. had insisted on having a top-notch facility while at the same time maintaining a Marine Corps look and feel.
The compound was actually more of a campus. The mess hall was located behind the headquarters building and the living quarters just behind that. One of the things the company found was that many of the families of employees also enjoyed living in close proximity, just as they had on military bases around the world. As a result, a portion of the campus was devoted to single-family homes for the families of SSI employees. There was even a condominium compound for non-married employees.
It was easy for spouses to come home for lunch or meet their families to eat in the mess hall. Needless to say morale was high as was retention within SSI.
The exception to the Spartan décor was the VIP quarters. Housed on the highest point of the property, the structure looked like a huge hunting lodge resplendent with a carved log exterior and large paneled windows. There were even rocking chairs on the huge front deck for visitors to enjoy.
The entire structure stood at right around 30,000 square feet with ten large guest suites. It was, therefore, no wonder that the employees had taken to calling it The Lodge.
Soon after SSI experienced its enormous growth, Cal Sr. realized the benefit of having the ability to house VIPs on site. It allowed visitors to see firsthand the inner workings of Stokes Security International. If potential clients weren’t sold after the initial presentation, they certainly were after being wined and dined by the staff at The Lodge.
Dr. Hadley directed the paramedics to take Cal up through the ramped entrance. Cal noticed Brian standing next to his car parked in front. The former corpsman walked over and followed the crew into the building.
BRIAN (whispering to Cal): Do I get to stay in here too?
They moved into the inner sanctum of The Lodge. An old fashioned bar, fully stocked, stood in the corner facing a variety of comfortable looking leather chairs.
CAL: I’m sure they’re gonna put you in one of the suites next to where they’ve got me.
BRIAN: Suite?
CAL (laughing): Yeah. They’ve each got a couple bedrooms and a nice living area. This is where the company houses visitors, prospective employees and VIPs.
BRIAN (in amazement): Are they looking to have a old corpsman turned nurse on staff?
Brian continued to stare wide-eyed as they passed through each enormous room.
CAL: I don’t know. I’ll ask.
Cal smiled at his friend, glad to have some levity in an otherwise degrading experience of being wheeled in on a gurney.
They arrived at a bank of elevators and Dr. Hadley pressed the button for the second floor.
DR. HADLEY: Travis has you in the corner suite.
Cal nodded. He thought that’s where they’d keep him. The corner suite was more like a Presidential Penthouse with almost 4,000 square feet of living area. It was way more than he needed but at least he could take advantage of the view. The floor to ceiling windows overlooked the majority of Camp Spartan. It would be good to see it again.
The team moved into the oversized elevator and it rose to the second level. Exiting the elevator, they turned to the right and headed to the end of the hall. One of the staff members withdrew a card key, inserted it in the lock and held the door open for the stretcher.
Brian followed in after the gurney and stifled a gasp. The place was huge! Furnished with the same décor as the rest of The Lodge, the corner suite was bigger than any house Brian had ever lived in. What did this company do? He’d find out soon enough.
Dr. Hadley was all business as he instructed the crew to move Cal to the oversized sofa that faced the glassed wall. With some effort Cal scooted to the edge of the gurney, maneuvered over to the sofa, and sat back.
DR. HADLEY: I’ll call Travis and let him know you’re settled. I’m sure he already knows you’re here, but he wanted me to give him a heads-up once you were safely in your room.
CAL: Great. Now I’m gonna have to check in with Trav before I take a piss.
DR. HADLEY: You know he’s only looking out for you, Cal.
CAL: I know, Doc.
DR. HADLEY: Here’s my card. If you need anything call me. I’ll be right down the hall. I’ll stop by a couple times a day to check in. For the rest Brian will take care of you.
CAL: You’re staying here too?
DR. HADLEY (grinning): Are you kidding? Have you had the bread pudding here? If your cousin is going to employ me I will be happy to take full advantage. Besides, my place is thirty minutes away and Travis’ instructions were for me to be immediately available.