by Laura Acton
Dan’s lids became heavy. He blinked trying to keep them open not wanting to deal with gumballs anymore. Though, he was quickly pulled into oblivion where gumballs did not exist.
Karen and team watched as all tension eased from Dan’s body. She turned to them. “Thank you for informing me. Sometimes patients experience adverse reactions. I’ll make a note in his chart. He’ll sleep through the night. Visiting hours are over, and I hate to do this, but you must leave now.” She discerned the disheartened expressions. “Okay, I’ll pretend not to notice if one of you wishes to stay the night, but only one.”
“I’ll stay,” Bram offered.
Lexa wanted to offer but determined staying would not be a wise idea. She struggled not to reach out and touch Dan. What is it about him that drives me to distraction? She stepped to his bed, and her fingers delicately grazed the back of his hand. “Sleep well. We’ll visit tomorrow.” Lexa backed towards the door to wait for the others to bid Dan goodnight.
The rest of the team followed suit, speaking a short phrase or wishing him well and pleasant dreams. They began filtering out one or two at a time until only Bram and Nick remained.
Nick said, “Call me if anything changes. I’ll be by first thing in the morning so you can go home to shower and eat. We’ll meet at HQ at nine to debrief.”
“Okay.” After Nick left, Bram pulled the chair to the side of the bed to maintain the night’s vigil of his wounded teammate. He wished Dan had not experienced hallucinations after everything else he went through today but was glad the sedative worked for him, and he rested easier now.
April 2
TRF HQ – Gym – 8:20 a.m.
Jon wiped the sweat dripping down his face on a towel. He had been at the heavy bag for at least twenty minutes. He needed to work off his anger from yesterday before heading into the debriefing. He remained pissed off at Cooper for the cheap shot to Dan’s groin and wondered if that might’ve hampered Dan in catching the subject before everything went to hell.
He was also upset because Dan lay in a hospital bed with an injury which might prevent him from returning. And to top it off, Nick placed a call to General Broderick, and a Corporal Merrill informed him the general would not come to Toronto because he had more pressing matters to attend to.
What kind of father doesn’t come? A piss poor one. If Kent or Joey were in the hospital, I would be there in a heartbeat. Wild horses wouldn’t be able to keep me from being there for my sons, especially if the nature of the hospitalization had potential life-altering repercussions.
Jon believed Dan deserved better. In the last nine months, the rookie proved his worth many times over. They were fortunate Dan had been placed on their team. Jon swallowed his pride as the truth of the matter became clear, and his thinking switched one-hundred-eighty degrees from when Dan first started. Dan is an asset to this team, and we are lucky to have him.
Realizing they now traveled a two-way street together, Jon acknowledged they still needed to work on smoothing out Dan’s army edges by mentoring him in several areas, but he and the rest of the team also learned new techniques from Dan. Their rookie brought a whole different viewpoint to the table, and his insightful observations were often quite unlike everyone else’s. Dan began developing rudimentary negotiation skills, though they all agreed learning the craft would be a slow process for the ex-soldier.
His thoughts were interrupted as he overheard two members of Delta Team laughing hard outside the gym. He focused on what was being said, and he started to fume. How dare they make fun of Dan! He headed for them.
TRF HQ – Outside Gym – 8:20 a.m.
Cooper agreed with Aaron’s previous comment. “You’re right, Broderick doesn’t belong here. How brainless do you have to be to fall and end up with glass in your ass?”
Aaron snorted and laughed. “Oh, as stupid as Broderick. Did I tell you he killed one of the guys in his military unit? So inept and cocky, he blew him away. Got away with murder my uncle said. Broderick also shot Ray. I only hope Pastore’s team wises up and kicks him out of TRF before he kills one of them, too. I swear Broderick’s incompetent.”
Laughing, Cooper said, “You witnessed how easy it was for me to take Broderick down. A single kick and he lay on the floor crying out like a pansy girl. How does Alpha Team stand to have him on their team?”
Lexa exited the locker room in time to catch Cooper’s last comments. Rage sparked fast and furious, and she struck out with a spinning hook kick to Cooper’s groin—full force.
Jon rounded the corner intending to set Cooper and Aaron straight. Planning on giving them a verbal reaming they wouldn’t soon forget. He stopped cold as he witnessed Lexa’s foot connect with Cooper’s genitals and the officer dropped like a rock screaming in pain and holding his crotch.
Cooper’s cry brought the rest of Delta Team, Loki, and Ray running.
Aaron turned on Lexa. “Why the hell did you kick him?”
Seething Lexa said icily, “One cheap shot deserves another. Perhaps Cooper will learn to keep his mouth shut and respect a fellow officer since a girl just dropped him with one shot.”
Jon went to Lexa and put a hand on her shoulder. “Easy, Lexa.”
She turned to Jon. “You should’ve overheard what they said. Dan doesn’t deserve to be badmouthed.”
Sergeant Glen Turpin asked, “What’s going on here, Jon?”
Jon clamped down on his anger but said firmly, “Glen, an attitude problem exists on your team and must be dealt with before someone else ends up hurt.” His tone and glare indicated he would be the one doing the hurting while Aaron and Cooper would be on the receiving end. Jon related exactly what the two Delta members said about Dan.
Glen seethed inside. Dammit. My rookie is still a hothead, and Aaron can be mule-headed. Plouffe isn’t a bad officer, in fact, he is a damned fine one, but sometimes he latches on to an idea, and even if he is wrong, it takes a lot to modify his thinking. Eventually, Aaron recognizes his error and makes amends, but it can take a long time and causes problems along the way. Glen continued to work on altering this characteristic of his officer, but transforming personality traits proved challenging in the best of situations.
As for Cooper, my recalcitrant rookie needs to be brought down a few pegs. Glen almost laughed thinking that Lexa dropping Cooper might be the ticket to fixing the rookie’s arrogance. At least this is a decent start based on Geiger’s current pained and shocked expression … they say pride goes before the fall. Perhaps I’ll talk with Jon to arrange a sparring session between our teams. Lexa can teach Cooper a lesson in humility and that he still has much to learn.
Nodding to Jon and Lexa, Glen stated, “I’ll take care of this. Please relay to Dan we all hope he recovers fast and is back with us soon.” Turning to his men, Turpin ordered, “Geiger, Plouffe, follow me. You’re running the obstacle course and pulling extra cleanup duty until your attitudes are adjusted, and you learn to respect fellow officers. Crap like this is unacceptable on my team.”
The rest of Delta Team held the same mindset, backstabbing behavior didn’t belong in TRF and expressed sentiments for Dan’s speedy recovery before following their sergeant out.
Jon turned to Lexa and couldn’t hide his smile. “Excellent shot.”
Lexa tilted her head, and a grin played on her mouth. “A sniper never misses her target.”
Ray and Loki both gave Lexa a high five.
Loki beamed as he said, “I can’t wait to tell Dan how you dropped Cooper.”
New and Old Friendships
42
April 4
Hospital – Dan’s Room – 6:00 p.m.
Unable to be up and about for the last three days except for supervised walks and to use the bathroom, Dan became exceedingly bored. All they permitted him to do unsupervised is lay in bed, easy enough, but he couldn’t lay on his injured side. When he forgot, the tender healing flesh painfully reminded him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he recalled the doctor informing him he s
uffered no nerve damage.
Unfortunately, a downside existed to his welcomed prognosis. Dr. Smythe wanted him to take his recovery slow to allow the muscle to mend and didn’t want him pulling any stitches, which created his boredom. Nothing to do. Lying on his uninjured hip, he faced the wrong direction to view TV, so he tried reading a book. Though, as he pursued the words, his concentration wavered allowing stray thoughts to enter. His fears of being taunted for glass in his ass had been unfounded. The team treated him with genuine compassion.
Loki’s animated retelling of Lexa dropping Cooper made him smile. His heart warmed when they supported him. He now also took Loki’s friendly and lighthearted reference to him as the accident-prone coyote in stride, realizing the character’s antics sort of fit him since joining TRF. Dan thought his old unit could’ve used Loki’s creative, humorous streak for names. Dantastic and Wile E. Coyote were definitely more inspired than what the unit called him for six years—Blondie.
Jon and Nick debriefed with him. He still couldn’t quite believe they didn’t think he screwed up. But Loki provided video from the candle shop which showed there was no way he could’ve seen or prevented Kash from squirting the oil at Ray. Jon insisted Dan’s position, opposite of Ray, fit their training and believed both he and Ray approached the subject correctly.
They also showed him the footage of his Acme Gumball Express ride which sent him crashing into the glass. Again, Jon asserted he did nothing wrong, and it was a freak thing no one could’ve predicted. Though, Dan still struggled with accepting the fact Jon fiercely defended him and his actions. Usually, the tactical lead was all too happy to point out every last mistake he made and ream him for messing up.
Over the past couple of days, as they visited him, each of the team had shared with him their thoughts and impressions of witnessing him lying in the shattered glass, impaled by the shelf, and held hostage with a gun to his head. What surprised Dan again is none of them laughed at him, and all showed concern for his well-being. He began to believe he might’ve found a new place to belong.
Though not pleasant, Dan tolerated being bedridden due to injuries, stomaching hospital food for a few days, and itching stitches and cuts. The only truly insufferable part … dammed gumballs continued to be a bane to his existence. Sharp-teethed beasties chased him in his dreams every night, and he couldn’t stop the disturbing visions from plaguing him.
As his door swung open, Dan peered up from his book and smiled at his visitor. Loki was fun to be around.
Loki bounded into Dan’s room after being given the green light to leave work early to bring Dan dinner today. He carried a box and an oversized orange and green bag, and couldn’t wait for Dan open his gift. He worked on his idea last night and thought his design concept to be a perfect solution. Enthusiastically, Loki greeted his teammate. “Hey, Dantastic. How ya doing today?” He set the bag and box down on the chair.
“Okay. Lunch sucked. The food here is enough to kill you. You’re here early. How did shift go today?” Dan responded.
“Boring. Only two simple warrant calls and patrolling.” Lifting his ma’s canvas bag, Loki said, “Ma sent you a care package. You’re saved from eating whatever they call dinner tonight. You like spaghetti and fresh bread?”
Dan grinned. “Sounds wonderful. Tell your mom thanks. I can’t remember ever having such delicious homemade bread. Your mom’s an amazing cook. What’s in that box?”
“Oh, this?” Loki’s face lit up. “A little something I made for you. Thought this would give you something to do during the day.” He put the rectangular box on the overbed table and rolled the unit towards Dan.
Dan lifted the lid and peered at the contents, a bit confused as he inspected each of the four partitioned areas. A gumball-filled section ran along one side. Another area contained a metal plate with a slight indentation and a small-sized ball-peen hammer with Acme hand-written on the handle in red ink.
The third part held a miniature replica of a guillotine, complete with a sharp straight edge razor blade bearing a tiny Acme brand label. The final sector of the diorama appeared to be another storage area, but instead of accommodating intact round candies, it contained only the maimed bodies of the evil beasts hounding his sleep. Another startling difference … hand-drawn mini headstones decorated the cardboard creating a graveyard.
He took a closer look at the multi-colored balls and discovered Loki drew teeth on them. Dan laughed. “What the hell is this?”
Loki excitedly said, “Your very own, original Acme Gumball Execution Kit.” He picked up the hammer and handed it to Dan. Then he put one of the gumballs in the welled depression of the plate. “Smash it. Kill the malevolent meanies.”
Dan hit the gumball, smashing it. Loki brushed the pieces into the graveyard before picking up another intact one. The manner of death this time would be the guillotine. Loki rigged a lunette assembly to restrain the condemned, preventing the round ball from rolling away from its fate. Dan worked the mechanism which sliced the beastie-ball into two pieces. Again, Loki swept the bits to the cemetery.
“You like? I thought this might help rid you of those nightmares. Since you are unable to kill them in your dreams, I wanted to design something so you can execute the vile creatures,” Loki explained.
Speechless, Dan stared at Loki. The techie went to all this work to help him. He selected a red gumball, put it on the metal plate and hammered it before committing its remains to the boneyard. Dan killed five more which provided him with both relaxation and amusement.
He grinned at his quirky and kind teammate. “I’m not sure what to say … thanks. This may actually work.”
“Fantastic!” Loki pulled out a huge two hundred and fifty count box. “I didn’t draw teeth on all these, but I brought a marker. So, if you want to draw them on before exterminating them, you can.”
The two men spent the next half hour laughing and joking as Dan sent dozens of demon-balls to hell … with a smile. When his stomach growled, announcing his hunger, Loki emptied the bags lovingly filled by his ma and arranged each dish to make the food convenient to Dan’s limited reach.
Several hours later, Loki got up to leave because he needed to catch some sleep before shift tomorrow. At the door, he said, “Hope ya have pleasant dreams tonight, Wile E. Coyote.”
Waving the Acme hammer in his hand, Dan replied, “I’m sure I will. But if they dare to attack, I’m armed now. Thanks for everything, Loki.”
Ottawa – Blaze’s Home – Kitchen – 9:00 p.m.
Bare-footed, Blaze entered his kitchen after showering and changing into jeans and a soft, long-sleeved, pale blue pull-over shirt. His thick, short, jet black hair, though towel dried, still appeared damp. His naked feet appreciated the coolness of the tile after the long training day in the mud and muck. He glanced at his best friend who was busy making sandwiches. “You find the mustard on the top shelf this time?” Blaze teased.
Winds grinned. “Nope, it appears the jar is AWOL. Didn’t respond when called to front and center either. Need to put it on report.” He set a plate down for Blaze after adding the condiment to their requisition list and returned to the fridge. “Beer, beer, or beer?
Blaze chuckled. “So many choices. Let’s see, how about beer?” Starving, Blaze straddled one of his counter stools before taking an enormous bite of his sandwich.
Closing Blaze’s fridge, Winds pivoted and carried two bottles of beer to the counter and took a seat. After he slid one to Blaze, he opened his and savored a long draw. “Ah.”
Blaze reached for his drink and twisted off the cap, and took a sip. “Hits the spot.” He took another huge mouthful of the double-decker roast beef sandwich, followed by another, and yet another.
Winds’ brows lifted as Blaze wolfed down his simple meal. “Slow down, careful you don’t choke. You’re not as skilled at scarfing down food as Blondie.”
His words were out before he thought about them. Their gazes locked as pained expressions crossed both faces.
“Sorry,” Winds said softly.
Blaze set his sandwich down—no longer hungry—as deep emotion welled up. He took his beer and drank down half. Alcohol would only dull the pain so much … but anything would be welcome.
He blew out a breath. “I still can’t believe he left without a single word. Well, … I can … but …”
Winds nodded. “I get it. I’m just as …” He didn’t need to finish, Blaze understood. “Did you find anything out?”
Blaze shook his head. “It’s like blackout protocol is in place on him. He’s totally off the grid. I contacted everyone with the skills necessary to locate him, but he no longer exists.” Blaze downed the rest of his dark ale.
Shoving his plate away, Winds sighed. “We lost both Brody and Blondie that day. We screwed up, and I can never forgive myself. We failed the kid when he needed us most.”
“Yeah, we did. But, I’m gonna find him,” Blaze declared.
Winds downed several mouthfuls of his beverage wishing to dull his loss if only a little. “I hope it isn’t six feet under.”
Blaze exploded, throwing his empty bottle at the wall, shattering the brown glass into tiny pieces. “Don’t you ever say that again! He is not dead. He’s only lost, and I will find Blondie!”
“Whoa! I’m merely saying. There is no sign of him. None.”
Lacing his fingers together behind his head, Blaze squeezed his neck and blew out an angry, frustrated breath straining to regain his control. “He is trained to hide in plain sight. I don’t think Blondie wants to be found.”
Standing, Winds headed for the pantry. “We’ll find the kid. I promise to continue searching until we discover his whereabouts.”
Winds peered at the thin scar across his left palm. A reminder of another vow—a blood oath made nearly five years ago. A promise he intended to keep or die trying. He grabbed the broom and a dustpan.