Chapter 8: A World of Hurt

+ Here comes more of rifj's skillful editing +

The still figure on the bed lay quiet; his eyes were closed. The cut on his upper lip had been cleaned and sewn. He drew ragged breaths of air through his open mouth. Suddenly he jerked and twitched. He opened his eyes and looked wildly around him. He struggled to sit up in bed.

"Don't move, Jack, take it easy," Zelda comforted him. "It's okay now. You're in the hospital. Everything's okay now."

His eyes focused on Zelda's worried face. "What hospital?" he asked.

"Not the VA," she assured him. "Creel can't reach you here. Gordon McReady checked you in under an alias. Your name is now John Doe."

"Won't work," he told her as he became fully conscious and remembered the last beating. "I have to get home. They'll try to get that disc. I need to protect it."

"Jack, you damned fool, can't you get it through your head that other people might have a brain or two? I took care of that little chore. I hid it where..." Jacked attempted to wave her to silence. "Don't you try to shush me. As I started to say, I hid them where nobody will find them unless something happens to us."

"Sorry, I didn't want you to say anything too much even in here. You don't know who might be listening."

"I have to get out of here." He struggled to sit up in bed.

"Take it easy, Jack, you're safe in here." She placed a hand across his back and lifted him up and forward with practiced ease. She gave him just enough help to make it up under mostly his own power. "Now you take it easy for once in your mule headed stubborn life."

"I can't. They'll try to get at me through Melissa if they can. I've barely gotten to know her after all these years. Those bastards will try to get at me through her just like that big tub of guts did when you two went to get her things. Get me out of here."

Gordon McReady entered the room in a hurry. "You can't stay in here. One of my friends gave me a heads up. There's another warrant out for your arrest. I am convinced the whole idea is to take you in for a questioning and its doubtful you would survive the experience. Just what the hell is going on here? I can't see any reason for the amount of pressure Creel has put on you. It doesn't make any sense. What are you not telling me?"

"What if Creel happens to be in the pay of a group of Arabs? What if he is hand in glove Hwith the White house in some crooked business dealing? What if the President of the United States is some sort of Manchurian puppet?" Jack looked at his friend and waited.

"Jesus Christ, can you prove any of this?" The lawyer stepped back and waited, mouth open, for Jack's answer.

"Maybe. Let's get me out of here and I'll tell you what I know and what I guess on the way back to the house. I'm worried about my daughter. The odds are they'll try to get at me through her next. They've tried to use her twice already." He struggled to get his emaciated legs over the side of the bed.

Zelda opened the small clothes closet and removed Jack's shorts and shirt. "Here," she told him, as she slipped his tee shirt over his head. She eased his shorts up over his legs and helped him slip them up past his hips. Then she threw his arm over her shoulders and helped him to stand. He leaned against her and let her support almost of his weight. With her assistance Jack walked slowly toward the door.

"Where are you going?" a nurse demanded as they passed the nursing station.

"Out," Jack grunted as he took another slow step. Gordon grabbed an empty wheelchair and eased it up behind Jack. Grateful, Jack stepped back and sat. Zelda began to push him toward the elevators. The nurse complained on the phone to her supervisor.

A hospital security guard tried to stop them as they left the elevator on the ground floor. "Just where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"Right over your fat ass if you don't get out of the way." Zelda looked the man up and down, "Out of the way or get hurt."

The guard reached for the wheelchair to restrain it. Gordon McReady stepped around and slapped the guard alongside the head. "Damned idiot," he muttered as they continued on out the door.

"Which way?" Zelda asked. "I took a cab down here."

"Follow me," Gordon answered and led them to a parked Audi.

"You can either sit Jack on your lap or get him in the car and follow us in a taxi." The lawyer had already opened the door on the driver's side and got in.

"I always liked it when I got a cute guy to sit on my lap," she laughed. "Since there isn't enough room in that dinky car for both of us to ride with you, I'll follow in a cab."

She helped Jack to stand and lean against the side of the car while she opened the door then helped him to struggle in and sit. As soon as his legs were inside she shut the door. Gordon drove away as fast as he could without drawing undue attention.

There was an empty unmarked government vehicle parked in the drive way at Jack's house. "Now what?" Jack asked, his first words since leaving the hospital.

"Wait here," Gordon ordered. He slipped out of the car and hurried to the back door. Zelda's cab pulled up to the curb. She jumped out and joined Gordon at a run. The lock on the back door had been broken.

Silent as ghosts they slipped inside with Gordon in the lead. Two strangers were searching through Jack's living room. They made no effort at neatness. CDs were scattered all over the floor.

"Hey!" Gordon yelled and charged the nearest intruder. Gordon knocked the man's skull against the edge of the fireplace mantle. The other intruder tugged at a gun from a belt holster in the small of his back. Before he could get it free, Zelda stormed at him, squeezed the gun hand. The small automatic went off and made a deep gouge in his right butt cheek. He yelled when Zelda dropped him to the floor.

She wrestled the automatic out of his hand and rammed it into his crotch. "Speak to me nicely or lose all of your goodies," she demanded. He fainted from shock. "Sissy," she murmured in contempt.

McReady jerked the one he had stunned to his feet. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" He drew back his right hand to chop the man's jaw.

"Badge," the man answered, "Shirt pocket."

"Remove it slowly and show me. One false move and I'll hurt you bad." McReady's voice held a deadly promise.

"Here," the man mumbled and brought his hand up toward his shirtfront. Gordon's eyes unconsciously followed the movement. The man's other hand snaked forward to do a throat punch.

Before he could complete the motion he felt something hard rammed up his butt. "I bet if I pulled the trigger you would literally end up with an altered personality," Zelda's angry voice told him.

The hard steel gun barrel rammed up hard against his behind caused him to go up on tiptoes. "Hey!" he squealed.

Jack had half crawled, half staggered all the way from Gordon's Audi and made it in through the front door. He dropped heavily into a recliner. "Zelda, bring me the phone," he ordered.

"Just wait a minute," she barked at him. "I'm trying to make up my mind if I want to shoot him with his own gun or beat him to death with it."

"How about you let me question him while you bring Jack the phone?" Gordon suggested.

"Jack's been getting too bossy lately," she snapped, her eyes blazed with her anger.

"I thought I was the boss here," Jack reminded her.

"Well, Boss, you'll just have to wait. I want to find out who these two pieces of crap belong to. I am sick and tired of all this violence."

"Why not search him?" Jack asked.

She turned toward Jack with an angry look on her face and started to yell at him. She caught herself and thought before answering. In a quieter voice she said, "Yes, I'm glad I thought of that." She patted the man down without removing the pistol from his scrotum. She reached the right rear pocket and found a wallet. She removed it and tossed it to Jack. "Here, you check him out.

The other intruder had regained consciousness and started to sit up. Zelda stepped sideways and over to him. "Give me your wallet."

"Go to hell," he sneered.

"Wrong answer," she told him. She slapped him with the gun in her hand. His eyes closed and he fell back.

"You want to soften up old sneaky Pete here?" Gordon smiled and continued. "A healthy young gal like you can probably keep this pace up for another hour at least. Now the question is," he dropped his voice to a loud whisper, "Will these two laddy-bucks survive the ordeal?"

"Don't I get a voice in what is going on?" Jack asked. "After all, it is my house." He seemed to draw strength from the excitement.

"No, you just sit there and be quiet. You're an invalid, you know." Zelda tossed him a half smile. "I'm getting ready to stick this little Beretta right up against this dude's manly parts and pull the trigger. I am getting very impatient and it's my period time. You know how cranky I get then."

"Jesus, you people are crazy!" The intruder looked again at Gordon. "What do you want to know?" He looked around as if seeking a way to escape.

"Who are you and what were you looking for in my house?" Jack stared hard at the one intruder still conscious. "I won't ask you again. My lady will ruin you for life and drink a strawberry milk shake while she does it if I ask her in a nice way." Jack grinned at the man.

"We were told to look for a mini disc in a white case. When we found it we were to take it to Senator Creel's office here in town and give it to Jim Lytle. That's all I know."

"Shoot his balls off. The bastard is lying." Jack's harsh voice interrupted the man's declaration.

"How about if I shoot one off just to show we're serious and let him keep the other one if he starts telling the truth? After all, if he loses them both he won't have any reason to cooperate." Zelda gave her victim an evil grin.

"Go ahead," Jack said in an indifferent voice. To the man he said, "Drop your pants so she can see what she's shooting at. You lose one of them now and if you start to talk you get to keep the other one. Now how do you want to sing, soprano or baritone?"

"Here, let me," Gordon interrupted. He grabbed the man's belt.

"Jesus! Okay, okay!" He began to blubber uncontrollably. In a hysteric voice he said, "We were supposed to find a mini disc and a safe deposit key that goes with it. There are copies of some dealings with the Arabs documented. It could send Senator Creel and a couple of other people to prison for a long time. That damned photographer mailed it to Daniels here, just before they all returned state side." He backed up against the fireplace and covered his crotch with both hands.

The one on the floor jumped up and made a dash for the door. Zelda threw the gun overhand and hit the man in the back of the head. She followed through with a loud scream and a leap that brought both her heels into the small of his back. She twisted and used his body for a springboard to kick off and land in a crouch.

"Give me the phone please, Zelda," Jack asked her again.

In silence she walked over to the cordless phone on an end table by the couch. She brought it to him. "Who are you going to call that's so important?"

Jack grinned as he dialed information and asked for the phone numbers of the local television stations. The message he gave to each was the same. "Hello, My name is Whiskey Jack Daniels. I'm calling the other three TV stations in the area. I have two of Senator Creel's punks in my living room.

"At this moment, I can't make up my mind whether to kill them outright or torture them on television live for the whole world to see. You want in on the party send a cameraman to my house and join in. My address is thirty-three forty-four Linden Street."