Chapter 8

Oh, wow, too much to drink. I wasn't used to waking up feeling like this. I made coffee, took my pills, and flipped the TV on to see if there was continued reporting. The nicer channel ran about the same story as the night before, but the nasty channel didn't even say I was cleared this morning. They just talked about two other people implicated in the investigation. What assholes.

I dressed in my only dressier clothes, a pair of khakis and a decent shirt. After breakfast and watching the other three channels to try to catch their reporting, the duty guy brought me a copy of the Tampa Tribune and the St. Petersburg Times. Surprisingly the Times had a longer story than the Tribune. The Trib did have a good smiling picture of me along with some nasty photos of Judy and Steven. They divulged that Steven was wanted around the country and was known by a few other names. Only the Tribune told of the attempted murder.

The deputy on duty said I should put all my clothes and toiletries into the bag they had left in the closet and go downstairs to be transported to court. He said that the deputy who was taking me to court would take me home afterward.

Federal Court was like any other court. I stood in front of the judge, this time next to the prosecutor, and was told that all charges had been dismissed. The Judge said, "Thank you for having been so cooperative. I'm told that no one ever Mirandized you, so what ever you said really could not have been used against you. I'm happy for you that this worked out."

The prosecutor said I could leave. Just like that it was over. A bad dream was over. As I walked to the door I had come in through, it opened and Steven Barts, or whatever his name was, came through the door while the bailiff was changing the cuffs from behind him to in front of him.

Barts saw me and pushed the bailiff away while twisting around grabbing the other, older, Deputy by the neck. Barts was crazy as he moved toward the surprised Deputy that was following him. That Deputy was the only one armed. Barts grabbed his gun and was trying to get it out of his holster. My hand hit a chair, and with both hands, I swung the heavy wooden chair at Barts as he was pulling the gun from the Deputy's holster.

The chair hit Barts as the gun was coming to bear on me. It hit Barts' arm and his still bandaged head. The chair was so heavy that when the seat of the chair came in contact with Barts head, it split. His head actually split open. The gun went off and I didn't feel anything at the time, but people were crowding around me, trying to lay me on the floor. Then I felt it. I was shot in the stomach, on the side. The forty caliber round had gone through me and lodged in a desk behind me.

As people were scurrying around, I kept thinking, crap, more fucking problems and I didn't do anything more than protect myself.

The deputy that had accompanied me to court came in and got down with me. He said, "You don't ever have to worry about that guy again. He's dead."

At that, I passed out.

I could hear people talking softly, saying silly stuff like, we have to have a party for him. I recognized Chuck Johnson, the Deputy Marshal's voice saying, "He saved at least one of my deputies and possibly the judge."

Mercy said, "I knew he was a good man."

Steve Sharp said, "The doc said the bullet didn't damage anything inside him."

Another voice I recognized, but couldn't put together whose it was, said, "We need to get him home and take care of him until he can get around on his own."

I opened my eyes, trying to see who was there and identified, Steve, Chuck, Mercy, and the unknown voice was Samantha's. I smiled and it was Chuck and Mercy that both looked at me and smiled back at me. Mercy came to the bed while Chuck left the room. Mercy asked, "How are you feeling? The doctor said you were going to be fine."

I smiled and said in a choked voice, "Water?"

A nurse walked in and I repeated, "Water?"

"I'll get you some ice chips, Honey. You've been out of it for a while. They had to be careful with you since you have that pacemaker and the heart trouble to go with it. Let me check you over."

She told one of the girls to go get some ice in a cup for me. Samantha almost ran from the room to get some.

The nurse looked under the bandage in front and back and pronounced me in decent shape for just having been shot. She said I was awake in time that she could still get me some broth for lunch. That sounded good to me.

Samantha came in and put the cup of ice on the table that could roll over the bed. I reached up and put some ice in my mouth and crunched. I kept crunching until all of it was gone and I picked up the cup and held it, "Can someone get me some more. My voice is getting better."

Samantha went for some more ice and came back. She said, "Mr. Robins, I want to write a follow-up piece so everyone knows you're a hero. We found out you have had multiple purple hearts and a silver star for bravery which Steve says is unusual for a helicopter mechanic. I've read the papers that go with the medals but don't understand all the terminology. Steve said he would explain. I'd rather you explain."

I smiled, "Samantha, that was a lifetime ago; I'm not that person any more. I'm a lot different now, more mellow, and I'm not interested in even remembering those days."

Samantha frowned and said, "Well, there are a lot of people who think you are a hero for hitting that man with a chair. He was a bad person."

"I know, Samantha, but he still shouldn't have died that way. That's not the way a person should leave this earth."

A doctor walked in and looked around. He said, "You're doing well and company is probably good for you. I wanted to let you know that the round didn't hit anything important inside. Just some torn flesh is all. While we were in there looking, we repaired an aneurysm above your bowel. We checked with the VA and they had you on a watch to repair it so while we had you open we fixed it."

I asked as the doc listened to my heart in several places, "So what's the deal? How long do I have to stay here?"

"Actually, you're doing very well. We're going to get you up in a little while and have you walk around. If you don't do anything dumb with your stitches and if you have someone to watch out for you and take care of you, you can go home tomorrow. You'll have to be really quiet, no running around and only slow walking; absolutely no lifting anything heavier than a glass of water."

I said, "I guess I should stay here for a while then. I live alone so this will be fine for a couple of days."

Steve stepped up to the bed and said, "I think I can find several people who will take care of you. You can stay at my place for the rest of the week or for as long as you need until you're more stable. There are plenty of people around all the time to help you."

"Steve, that's very nice of you, but I can't do that. You don't know me well enough to invite me into your home. I can stay here, I'll be fine."

Mercy stepped up to the bed and said, "You will come home with us and stay with us. You are our hero right now and we want our hero where we can watch him. Please, come home with us, we'll take care of you."

At that instant, my son Gene walked in the door. "Dad, how did you manage to get shot in court, especially Federal court?"

Gene came over to me, leaned down, and gave me a gentle hug. He was a little watery-eyed when he said, "You know you took care of me every second when I was sick with the measles and chicken pox. You never left my side. I'm taking you home with me. We'll watch you there. You need to consider moving in with us like I suggested, Dad. Now it's even more important. Sandy told me to bring you home."

"Gene, relax, Tampa is my home now and I've met a lot of very good people where I've just moved. I'll come visit you in a month or so, but right now I have a life I need to settle into."

Gene looked around at the four people in the room, "He's a hard-headed guy. Tell him to come home with me."

Mercy spoke, "Your dad knows you love him and that you're sincere about him coming, but he's an independent person too. He does have a lot of new friends where he lives now."

The doctor interrupted us and said, "If Mark has someone to take care of him, I'll let him go in the morning. If he wants though, he's welcome here. The FBI says they will cover your hospital stay since it was their prisoner who shot you. I'll see you in the morning."

Gene listened to the doctor and said, "Darn it, Dad, I love you so much. I just want you to be safe and happy. You shouldn't have to have a regular job and you should be doing those things that you retired guys do. I know you like to putter around and you know I've got a big garage to do it in."

I said, "You should see my work shop. I've got a twelve by twenty fiberglass shop with one of my big workbenches in it and all of my tools. I have a great place to work on my toys."

Thinking that he had made it down here fast, I asked, "I know there aren't good flight connections to get down here from Cheyenne. How did you make it here so fast?"

"Used the Mouse, Dad. You know, the Musketeer. I was in Mobile when I heard you were hurt. I finished the modification a couple of weeks ago and just got the mods accepted by the FAA. I can carry the five of us legally now, and with the larger powerplant, there's no problem on climb. Did you do like I told you and do something about getting a sport plane?"

"Son, I know I could fudge, but you know I can't pass a flight physical. That's why you have the Mouse. When I lost my license, it was yours to keep. When I have some money ahead, I'll look into a light sport but it may be a while. You stay here tonight then go back home. You shouldn't take time off from work. I'll call and you can come get me."

"You go out to my place and stay there tonight," I said to Gene. "Have Steve or Mercy get Betty to let you in. I don't know where my clothes are for a key. There's beer in the fridge and some food in the fridge and freezer. You can even check out my shop. The key is by the door jamb as you go out."

"Sandy isn't going to believe me that you won't come, Dad. You really should come home with me now and visit."

"Leave me be, Son. I promise to come visit soon. You know there are a lot of loose ends to take care of here. You might see if Judy has someone to take care of the animals while she's in jail."

"I hate to have to even talk to her, Dad. I'll call Jeanie and see what she says. Let me step out and call her."

Gene left the room and my friends crowded around again. Steve said, "So you will come home with us, right?"

I said to them, "Okay, I'll come but as soon as I can, I want to get back to my own place."