Chapter 10

As the partners headed towards the ER, Terry glanced at John. "You know, we're really not supposed to use those things in here."

"Damn, in all this excitement I forgot. Why didn't you remind me?"

"I just did." The glint in Terry's eyes was broken by a scream from the ER.

Barreling through the doors, they saw what looked like the result of a fistfight between two coworkers. At first glance neither man was identified, but it didn't take long to recognize Virgil on the ground and the person running away; an imposter. Terry and John took off after him. Since the attacker had to wait for the automatic doors to open, they closed the distance but not enough to catch up. The assailant had parked in a spot close to the entrance and was already in his Jeep when the two pursuers made it outside. In the early morning light, it was not hard to see the rifle leveled at them. They slid to a stop, reversed and ducked back inside. The gunman peeled out of the parking lot.

Bret dragged Cassie towards the ER. He slowed as he came to a set of double doors, the right one broken and hanging by one hinge. Beyond he saw an SAR man on the floor.

"Quick, get in there. Get a close up of whoever that is. We'll worry about his name later. If there's blood, make sure to get it." He shoved Cassie through the opening.

She hesitated when she saw emergency personnel descending upon the injured man, but then heard, "GO!" from behind.

Clamping her jaw, Cassie moved like a professional paparazzi, closing in on the fallen man and zoomed on the blood starting a rivulet around his ear. She wasn't sure, since she only saw a picture, but this person sure looked like the Keller fellow she was researching.

"Please, Miss, move aside" she heard from a nurse behind her, then side-stepped while still shooting.

Terry and John ran back inside where the two remaining state troopers were investigating the event. John called over his shoulder, "Talk to the cops, I have to do something." He headed towards the media already on top of his fallen comrade.

"BJ, he's gone. Got in a Jeep." Terry huffed, catching his breath.

"Did you get a license plate number?"

"Uh, uh. We ducked when he pointed a rifle at us."

"What color's the Jeep?"

"Dark. Black, maybe a dark green or navy blue. But he had on one of our jumpsuits, that was clear."

BJ called headquarters from his shoulder radio and gave a brief description of the vehicle and occupant. He turned to the men with him, "They're putting out an all points. But don't hold your breath if he made his way into the desert."

Cassie was concentrating on the subject when the viewfinder in the camera went black. Startled, she jumped back and found a rescue worker, built like a tank, covering her lens with his enormous hand.

"Don't do that," John growled under his breath.

Terry approached the group surrounding Virgil, and heard John going after a reporter, and photographer. "Get lost you blood sucking ambulance chasers."

Seeing that Virgil was being attended, he went after his partner, and caught him by the sleeve. "John, easy buddy. Leave it alone."

"Hey, I have a right to the story," the reporter yelled.

Normally a placid person, John's temper flared. "What right? What gives you the right? It's not in the constitution that you can get into everybody's face."

"The public has a right to know!"

"Who says? Where does it say that? It's just an excuse the media made up so that they can legally badger people."

As Terry held John back during the shouting match, BJ stepped up to the news leech, "C'mon, bud, let the professionals do their work and take care of the victim."

Mary Anne stretched up whispering to the nearby orderly, "Go get a gurney. Think you can accidentally run into that jerk in your haste to get back here?"

Looking out of the corner of his eye at the reporter, the burly man winked as he left.

"You gonna arrest me? I'd like to see you find a charge that sticks," Bret ranted.

"I'm not going to arrest you," BJ did not move nor give any hint of seeing the orderly bearing down on the unsuspecting journalist.

"Comin' through, comin' through," the orderly yelled leaving no time for Bret to react.

"Yeow!" Bret grabbed at his hip as he stumbled over.

"Hey sorry, man." The orderly continued onto his destination with no more concern to the newest patient.

BJ bent over and helped Bret up. "Let's get you out of here to a safer spot."

"He did that on purpose. I'll sue."

"Looked like an accident to me. He warned you to move out of his way." BJ held back the smile trying to break through his straight facade.

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"I was busy looking at you, I didn't see him until it was too late. Now why don't we get you out to the waiting room. Someone will be by to take your information and get you checked out. Good thing you're already in a hospital, huh?" BJ turned away as the smile won the battle and cracked wide open.

With the reporter out of the way, the men turned their attention to their fallen friend, still on the floor, motionless, being tended to by the nurse.

Virgil was struck so hard he spun 360-degrees before landing on his back. He lay still for what seemed hours to the people surrounding him. Another ER nurse, Jeannie, who just returned from the labs called for a doctor. Mary Anne held a compress to the side of his head to slow the bleeding.

The first sign of life was when he drew up his left knee trying to get onto his side. Unsuccessful, he rolled back. Eyes still closed, he lifted his hand to his head. Mary Anne gently restrained it and kept calling his name trying to bring him around.

At the time, Dr. Christensen, the graying, portly staff physician on call, was taking a nap. This acceptable practice did not impede his immediate response when his services were called upon. When the doctor arrived he saw the nurse trying to help the patient wake up and knelt beside the semi-conscious man. After a brief check, he felt it was safe to lift him unto a bed.

"Ready? Lift." the doctor commanded, and Virgil was elevated easily with the help of the two orderlies, two cops and the two GNRI men.

"Ooowwww," escaped Virgil's lips as consciousness fought its way to the surface. "Wha da hell happen'd?" he slurred with his eyes still closed.

BJ spoke first. "We're hoping you could tell us."

Virgil opened his eyes, squinting from the bright lights and looked around at all the faces. He tried to sit up, but the simple motion sent the room spinning. He started to retch and the nurse brought over a basin. She gently rolled him on his side as his stomach emptied.

The doctor stated, "Looks like a concussion."

When Virgil's stomach quieted down, the doctor removed the cloth from the side of his head.

Terry shook his head. "I don't want to be here when Sonny sees that!

A perfect imprint of a pistol handle showed across his cheekbone. Dr. Christensen gently probed Virgil's face along the side towards his ear, where the gun barrel got him. The patient winced several times as the doctor continued probing. Looking up to Jeannie, the doctor ordered, "I want a full head CT." Then to Virgil, "Do you hurt any place other than your head?"

He hesitated so long that the doctor began to think he didn't hear him. Dr. Christensen started to repeat the question when Virgil, his tongue feeling two sizes too big, answered, "I don't think so, just numb. Disjointed, if y'know what I mean."

"That I do, young man. That I do." The older physician wrote down his orders on a chart and handed them to the nurse.

Walt took the bag of fresh clothes and headed to the men's locker room. As an afterthought, he grabbed his cell phone in case of any new developments. He wasn't expecting any calls for at least an hour while the men checked over their helos for damage. He started the shower when the phone rang. 'Too soon, ' he thought with a sense of foreboding. He took a deep breath as he sat down on the bench and answered the phone.

"Hello, Walt? I have some bad news for you." In a nanosecond, disturbing thoughts raced through his mind. Was one or both of the choppers not flyable? Is there something wrong with Jack that they didn't know at first? Was he having trouble on the operating table? But the worst thought; did that madman follow them to the hospital?