Chapter 16

I loved being alone for a few weeks at Catherine's - well - my ranch. The cold air sort of perked me up, just like the warmth in Florida gave me a shot in the arm, a few months earlier. The pace, stress, and never ending worries were brutally exhausting and held back my recovery. I realized it was true when I felt myself renewed and energized by sleeping as late as I wished, eating whatever and whenever I chose, and having nothing to do but tell the workmen what I wanted done.

Often at night I spoke to Catherine in my head, telling her about the changes I was making to her home, and how grateful I was that she brought me here to hide out, even though it didn't work out very well. Owning and personalizing the place gave me a sense of belonging somewhere again. That helped my frame of mind, just as the gentle pace, and easy going days helped my body.

My scars were terrible.

Every night I looked at my chest and stomach and was once again, amazed to be alive. I was literally, torn to pieces by those shooters, yet survived, and healed up. Clearly the Universe had a job just for me, and it wasn't done.

To that end, I put my bank and trust accounts, the farm, Fornier's property and belongings, and my vehicles, planes, and other property in a very special trust, that I could take control of in a different body, by correctly answering a unique set of questions, that nobody but me would ever know. The attorney looked at me like I was insane when I drew up my desired trust conditions, but he did a great job of putting it all together.

Instead of having Jim do it, I chose to keep it separate from everything else, in case I came back and for some reason HAD to keep my identity a secret. If we talked, I'd tell him, and I was confident he would understand.

The winter petered out, and spring was slow in coming when the assassins came to take me out.

The Judge reported in occasionally and let me know that they were making progress, identifying the occasional bad guy, making a few arrests, and peeling away layer after layer between them, and those giving the orders. I wasn't thinking about anyone needing to kill me, so when the three black Audi SUV's turned in my drive, it took me moment to realize I was in trouble.

... real bad trouble...

Unfortunately for my uninvited guests, I was prepared for trouble. Dropping the rake I was holding, I ran inside and hit the panic button, to alert the Judge. Then I hit the switch to lock the hangar, and electrify the entire building. When one of them grabbed the door handle, they would not like what happened.

I kept guns in a cleverly disguised wall locker, in the hallway, and grabbed the automatic shotgun, and my Glock, along with plenty of extra magazines. By the time my visitors arrayed themselves to cut me off from any escape, I had them right where I wanted them.

All twelve car doors opened at once. They must have practiced that, and thought it would frighten their quarry, but all it did was get me laughing at their childishness. Once they were all out, I opened up on them with number two buckshot, firing four closely spaced shots that put three down, and injured three more. Shooting from the protected space I had built, underneath the front porch, was like shooting plastic ducks at the carnival.

I doubt they were expecting me to cut the odds in half, almost before we began, but – like I always say - if you insist on playing in the mud, you're going to get dirty.

The return fire was instant, and undisciplined, which gave me time to pick out targets and hit them one-by-one. Two shooters did not enjoy being shot in the lower legs, from under their cars, but the concrete driveway provided such a convenient bed to scatter and focus shotgun pellets, I couldn't resist.

Now five were out of the game, even though they weren't all dead.

It was suddenly seven to one, and their leader finally got his act together, and ordered four to rush the front of the house. It was a good idea...

Well...

It would've been a good idea, IF I was in the house, and if they could have forced the front door, or shot out the windows.

You know...

Since neither was the case, AND they sky lined themselves perfectly for me, I opened up on all five as fast as I could pull the trigger, and hit four. The fifth dove over the front porch rail, and badly sprained his shooting shoulder.

With the odds cut to three to one, the leader began to organize a Hail-Mary play. Rather than let them blow up my house, I shot him, tossed a several wild shots into the lead car, and waited for a target.

With their boss screaming in agony, and nine of their compatriots either bleeding to death, dead, or otherwise out of the game, the two remaining shooters decided that discretion was the best option and made a run for it in the rear most vehicle.

I WANTED them alive to go home and tell the tale, so I let them race to safety thinking they got one over on me.

The ten were another problem altogether...