Chapter 19

Roberta was the first to speak. "Aunt Fran, Geoffrey Keller appears to have a long gap in his government issued, state department phone, which would line up with the timetable necessary to sell us out, yesterday.

"Can you issue a warrant for Geoffrey Keller's personal phones based on what David and I just came up with?"

Aunt Fran didn't even think about it. She hit speed dial on her phone and waited. "Carmen, type up a warrant for ALL phones - government and personal - for a Geoffrey Keller, Deputy Secretary of State. It is to be considered signed and sealed as of right now, and I will personally sign it when I come in."

She smiled at Roberta, and said, "Yes. I think I can." Her look was priceless, and I laughed, which hurt so bad I clutched my side and tried to will the pain to pass.

Roberta and Fran were on me in a second, but the pain was so bad I couldn't move enough air to speak and tell them it was alright. Roberta pressed the button and the doors flew open to admit a veritable army of medical personnel and security types.

Roberta and Fan pointed at me and Fran said, "He started to speak and just doubled up like that."

The activity was way out of proportion to the need, but it hurt so bad I couldn't do anything about it. Two doctors examined my IV's while another read quickly through my chart. By the time they agreed that nothing life threatening was happening, I could just breathe deep enough to tell them it was Ok, just pain and a horrible muscle spasm.

"I couldn't breathe. The pain was so bad, I couldn't even cry out. It's passing now, but wow, it hurt," I said cautiously.

That wasn't good enough for my medical team, and they called in the surgeon, hospitalist, and maybe a couple of witch doctors, along with a car mechanic, just in case. The ICU suite was so packed, there was no way any of them could get a good look at me, but that was their problem. I was concentrating on breathing and suffering, trying not to experience another spasm like that.

After about an hour the chief of staff declared that I was suffering from internal injuries magnified by the various and sundry sets of stitching inside me, and that the pain would be unavoidable until my body healed enough on its own to overcome the problem. I was dosed with an extraordinary shot of pain killer and told to try and remain still as much as possible for a few days.

Roberta and Aunt Fran went home, and their replacements for the night were older, tougher, no-nonsense types, who frankly scared the crap out of everyone coming into my room. After the imposter, Roberta's bosses weren't taking any chances.

Lying still gave me hours and hours to think about the circumstances surrounding the attacks on me. It was still hard to imagine that the violent faction of Muslim imams would feel so obsessed with an eighteen-year-old boy, no matter what he did. The facts just didn't hold up, and that kept me awake almost all night.

Sometime before dawn I opened my eyes and saw that both of my guards had stepped out, and I thought I could hear them conversing in the hallway. They seemed to just need a break, but something about the setting troubled me, so I pushed the call button to see if anyone would respond. When no one answered the bell, I got scared and lifted the phone to call the security desk.

There was no tone.

That's when I knew I was in trouble ... again. I called Roberta on my cell and left a message on her voice mail, then texted the same SOS message to her.

The IV pole was my constant companion, but unless I got free of it, I suspected they would find my body still safely attached. I disconnected everything and moved to the blind corner, where you couldn't really tell if anyone was standing there or not. I'd noticed it when one of the cartoon generals' guards stood in that exact spot, and I lost sight of him.

The seconds ticked off as I stood silently waiting for the next shoe to drop. When it dropped, it missed me completely.

The two 'guards' standing outside my door got some kind of signal and both turned and fired into the bed, where my chest would have been. The gunshots were far too loud not to be heard, so they both fired again and took off like their butts were on fire. I stayed right where I was and waited for reinforcements to arrive.

It took far too long, but suddenly lights came on, alarms sounded, and the sound of running feet came from both directions at once. When the first agents arrived, they found me struggling to remain upright, leaning over the counter in the corner far from the bed. My sense of balance was gone, as was my strength, and all I was capable of doing was laying on the counter top, trying to remain inconspicuous.

Those first guards saw the bullet holes and put it all together, then called for a stretcher and eased me onto it. The next wave were far too hopped up and demanded I tell them every detail of my ordeal, but the darkness was coming in far too fast, and my ability to respond went the other way just as quickly.

It was hours before I came to the next time.

Before I opened my eyes, I knew it was daytime, and that I was somewhere less exposed to danger. I could feel the safety net that hovered around me, and relaxed trying to wake all the way up. Being still and listening can have lots of benefits. One of them is the things you hear when people don't realize you can hear them.