Chapter 22: The Next Chapter

Kelly slipped out of bed before the midnight nurse came through and changed into her jeans and t-shirt from earlier in the day. Sleeping with me must have cured her nerves, though, since she slept right through both the midnight and four o’clock check-ins. In the morning she left to go home and go back to Matucket State. As she did, though, she whispered that as soon as I was better, and classes were out for the summer, we were taking a parents-only vacation and that when I was researching it on the Internet, the words debauchery and depravity would not be considered a negative. When I got wheeled into surgery I was smiling, and not just because of the happy juice they had started me on.

I woke up mid-afternoon with Kelly sitting in a chair next to my bed. “How you doing, Grim?”

I smiled at her. “Not as good as I was last night.”

Kelly blushed and said, “Ssshhh! We’ll end up in the prison ward downstairs!”

“As long as it’s a conjugal visit, I’m game.”

“Behave. The doctor said he’d be along to talk to us.”

I nodded. I now had some new hardware, a cast on my left leg from the knee down to my foot. Before the operation I had been told that after they sewed up the partial tears, my foot and ankle would need to be immobilized for at least a month. After that, I would begin physical therapy and rehab. Hopefully, I would be able to lose the cast before we took that adult vacation Kelly was thinking of.

An hour or so later the surgeon showed up. The surgery had been successful. I had four partial tears to various ligaments and tendons on the back of my left leg; all had been repaired. I would probably be able to leave the hospital on Wednesday. Now it was just a matter of rest and recuperation while they healed. With any luck at all, the cast could come off in a month. My final recovery would take at least another two months of therapy after that. Then I would be restricted to light duty of some sort for at least another month. I was out of work for three to four months, minimum.

Kelly left right after that to get the kids settled into Jack’s house. They had stayed the night at my parents’ and Mom had taken Riley to school. Kelly had been lucky in that the week of the 19^th through the 23 ^rd had been Spring Break for Matucket State; she hadn’t lost any time at school. The kids, on the other hand, had missed an entire week. That wasn’t a big deal for Seamus, who was still in day care over at Matucket State, but Riley was in the first grade. She promised to call later, but when I reminded her I still didn’t have a phone, she simply shrugged and kissed me good-bye, and promised to stop by Verizon and pick one up for me.

Hank Jenkins and Josh Washington visited Tuesday afternoon and filled me in on what was going on in the investigation. As expected, the FBI and the US Attorney swooped in Monday morning with a court order and took over. All the physical evidence, and there was a ton of that, was packaged and sent to the main FBI lab in Washington. The bodies weren’t so easily shipped off, so the FBI sent over a medical examiner to work with the Matucket medical examiner. My home was no longer going to be FBI property and was released back to us. Hank told me that he had called my father to let him know.

“We’ve already got some of the results back from the autopsies,” said Josh. “You were right, they had body armor, and good body armor at that. That’s why the first guy you shot didn’t die. You hit him a glancing blow on his front chest plate and simply knocked him off his feet.”

“So why didn’t that happen with the second guy? I swear, I was shooting center mass.”

Hank answered, “Yeah, you did it right. They found the bullet track and cracked plate on the first guy, and it was right here.” He indicated a spot on the right side of his chest. “The second guy was just sheer dumb luck. The angle must have been slightly different, and you caught him under his right arm and the bullet went through the Kevlar without hitting a plate. It just rattled around inside him and ripped out both lungs and his heart. He was dead before he even dropped.”

“Damn! Anyway, when I saw the first guy sit up, I decided to take head shots instead. I couldn’t see any helmets.” They nodded in understanding. “Any more word on the weapons?”

“Nothing you don’t know already. ATF has the serial numbers and is running them down. We’ll probably know by the end of the week. Your friend Delahoye is feeding stuff to Crowley. Not sure whether it’s sanctioned or not, but it’s not like we’re talking, anyway,” said Hank.

Josh smiled. “One of the geeks in the forensic unit took all the audio and video and tied it all together, made a really cool video from it. He apparently ran the digital versions of the video from your alarm system and from your gun camera and synched it with your live feed from your microphone. It’s like a video of the entire engagement! Seriously cool. The Feds were very impressed, they were talking about using it in training.”

“Huh.”

“When are you out of here?” asked Hank.

“With any luck, they send me home tomorrow. After that, though, I am on the injured reserve list until the summer.” I gave them the breakdown on my condition. I could see them looking at each other; with me out for months, they would have to name somebody else as interim tactical commander. “Put Virgil in as my replacement. We can’t wait around for me to come back.” Virgil Smith had been in TRT almost as long as I had and was very good.

Hank nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll let everybody know you’re getting out of here tomorrow. The Feds want to do a joint interview-slash-interrogation.”

“I’m moving into my brother’s place in West Springs until they rebuild the house. We might as well do that out there. Tell the lawyer to come over on Thursday and then we can do the interview on Friday.” I gave them the address.

Dad was assigned to pull me out of the hospital on Wednesday, since Kelly had classes and Mom had to work. I was going to be hobbling around on crutches for a month or so, which was just as much of a pain as it had been when I had needed them as a teenager. First, we drove over to our house, where we met with the contractor he had suggested. The bulk of the damage had been done to the back and side of the house, in the master bedroom area and Seamus’ room. He gave me an itemized list of what needed to be done and when. He could begin the demolition portion of the work immediately, which consisted of tearing down the remains of the shed and junking anything inside it, along with stripping off the siding and the shingles. There was also a fair bit of sheathing and decking which would need to be replaced, and inside there was sheetrock damage. He could order the materials needed, though he needed a deposit to order stuff, but could start prepping until it arrived. Dad nodded to me, so I gave the go-ahead and Dad wrote out a check.

At Jack’s I was moving into the den. They had renovated a traditional farmhouse, where all the bedrooms were upstairs. With my crutches and bum leg, that was an accident waiting to happen. Jack and Dad set up a bed in the den; there was a three-quarters bath off the utility room near the kitchen. I was sitting in the living room watching television when Mom and Kelly brought in the kids. They both came running to see me with Boxie romping behind them. That ended with a hundred pounds of Labrador Retriever jumping onto my lap to slurp my face. Then he jumped off, planting all four paws on the pride of the Reaper family as he did so. My eyes popped open, and I began explaining to my wife in a falsetto voice that Mommy-Daddy vacations were unimportant in the future.

Kelly just laughed at me and rubbed Boxie behind the ears. Dinner was simple, hot dogs with mac and cheese on the side. I hobbled into the dining room and Kelly and I told them I would be staying home until I got the cast off, and that they needed to keep their bedrooms clean since Daddy couldn’t go up the stairs to chase them down. Even as she said that I knew it was a lost cause. We had to hope that we moved back into our house before they destroyed Jack’s.

After dinner I simply sat in the living room on the couch, my foot up on an ottoman, while Kelly chased the kids up the stairs to take baths and put on their pajamas. Eventually they ran downstairs to kiss me good night, and then Kelly chased them and Boxie back up the stairs. Ten minutes later she returned and plopped down next to me on the couch. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m okay.”

“Just okay? How’s the leg?”

I gave her a wry smile. “Like I’m lugging around ten pounds of fiberglass. Why?”

“No reason. Maybe I just worry about you.”

“Well, you can stop worrying for a few months. I’m probably out of work for three months or so.”

“Oooh, I get a househusband!”

I laughed. “You bet! I’ll be here when you come home after a hard day of slaving over a hot laptop. A gourmet meal will be waiting, and I’ll be wearing a slinky black cast.”

Kelly laughed hard enough to start coughing. “That I will have to see!”

“You’re going to have to do something about my pants, babe. I can’t wear cargo shorts for the next month.”

“I bet I can do something about your pants right now.”

I heard a clatter upstairs. “And I bet you probably shouldn’t.”

Kelly groaned and went up the stairs to see who was up and about. I decided it was a good time to hit the bathroom, so I grabbed my crutches and levered myself upright. I made it to the bathroom and back in time to find Kelly returning. “Seamus needed another story read.”

I nodded. Kelly came over and sat next to me. “So, what about your pants?”

“Remember when I had the broken foot in high school? Mom had to let the seams out of some of my pants, so I didn’t have to wear gym shorts to school.”

“Didn’t you have to tie them on with laces or something?”

I described what we had done, and she decided to take a couple of pair of pants over to my mother. That brought up the need to go over to the house and bring back some clothes. She decided to meet me there at lunch tomorrow. Since it was my left foot that was in the cast, I was reasonably certain I would be able to drive over there. Then I realized my car was still at the house. Kelly would need to pick me up and drive me over first.

A few minutes later, Kelly leaned over and licked my ear. “I’m starting to feel very nervous again.”

“Really? Like the other night?” I asked, smiling.

“Even worse!”

I gave her an innocent look. “Should I call Doctor Shemel?”

That caused my wife to break down in laughter. “I don’t think he’s going to provide the treatment I need.”

“Well, I’d hate to see you continuing to suffer if I could help. It’s just the kind of guy I am.”

“You’re so wonderful. Come on.” She stood up and tugged my hand. I grabbed my crutches and she helped me to my feet. I took a final trip to the bathroom and then headed towards the den. Kelly had turned down the covers and was sitting on the bed pulling off her shoes. “It’s a little smaller than our bed, but it was all they could fit in here.”

“We’ve got a king size. This is what, queen?”

“Smaller. Twin.”

“We’ll just have to sleep closer to each other.” I told her.

She smiled at me. “I certainly hope so.” Kelly helped me with my pants, which was not all that sexy, since everything needed to be pulled down over the cast. Then I crawled under the covers. She undressed next, saying, “When we pick up some clothes at the house, I’ll need to bring over some stuff to sleep in.”

“Maybe I could help you pick out a few things.”

“Maybe you could.” Then she turned off the lights and slipped under the covers with me. It turned out the bed wasn’t too small so long as we stayed close to each other.

Over the next few days, I met with the PBA lawyer and then with the joint FBI-MPD interview team. Otherwise, I was on medical leave. I helped Kelly bring some stuff back and was able to drive my car. Meanwhile, not much happened. The kids got used to staying at Uncle Jack’s and Aunt Teresa’s, Boxie got used to his new yard, and Kelly and I got reacquainted. I did what I could as househusband. It was boring.

Just when the national interest in Matucket County was beginning to wane, somebody leaked the video that had been generated from the firefight. Nobody knew whether it was from the Feds or us, but a video of me killing a bunch of terrorists was like catnip to reporters. The department was inundated with more requests for interviews. The worst part was when Fox News showed it and the commentator excitedly declared, “Wow! This guy’s a professional assassin!” Great! I was now a hired murderer! The department put out a statement protesting this and characterizing the comment as slander and defamation, but nobody cared. MSNBC ran the statement and roundly denounced Fox News, but that was it. Fox News ignored the complaint.

Also ignoring the situation was the President. When Sarah Sanders, the Press Secretary, was asked if President Trump realized that the same police officer who he had complained about six months ago was the police officer who had taken down the terrorists, she had replied, “I am not aware that any discussion was made of that,” and then immediately pivoted to the need for a border wall. In that she was adamant. No matter what the follow-up question was, she ignored it and went back to the demands that Congress fund the wall.

We were able to move back into the house mid-April. Everything looked great, though Riley kept asking what the smell was. It took a bit for us to realize she was smelling the new paint in some of the rooms. The yard was a bit of a disaster; following the firefight half the emergency vehicles in Matucket County had shown up and driven all over the yard, and the mess was compounded with construction vehicles. Everything had been smoothed out and seed and straw had been blown around, but it was still a muddy mess.

Chief Crowley came out at the end of April to talk to me. I got us a couple of beers and we sat out on the deck looking down at the lake. “What’s up, Chief? You look serious.”