Chapter 9

The government sent a nice, small jet to whisk me out of danger. The agents were very uptight until we were in the air, and then pretty much ignored Sienna and me. We spent the flight westward engaged in a game of monopoly thoughtfully provided by the owner of the jet.

I had just purchased Park Place when the jet banked and turned very sharply. Sienna looked at Agent Gottfried for some kind of explanation, but he was deeply involved in a phone conversation and turned completely away from us to give him privacy. It looked like whatever changed our plans was going to remain a secret from us until we landed.

For some reason I just couldn’t work up much worry about it. When you’ve been shot, crashed, poisoned, stabbed, beaten, and generally murdered to death as many times as I had, you must build up some kind of immunity to the fear, worry and distraction, because I invited Sienna back to our game and dismissed the change of direction from my thoughts.

By the time we landed I had thoroughly spanked Sienna at Monopoly, read a newspaper discarded by one of the agents, consumed a can of Pepsi, eaten four of those uselessly tiny bags of pretzels, and fallen asleep. Sleep was a luxury for Ross’ tiny body. The years of deprivation, combined with the physical assaults on his body, reduced him to a condition best described as barely alive.

When I moved around, I felt enough aches and pains to make me feel sixty instead of fourteen. Sienna was taking my vitals multiple times a day and texting the results to Doctor Halberstadt. He would often text or email suggestions for my diet, sleeping schedule, and exercise regime. Sienna would enforce his suggestions as if they were holy writ, and I knew not to fight her on it. All I had to do to find myself agreeing to comply was to remember waking up from a coma, in a nursing home.

Still unaware of our surroundings, Sienna and I deplaned. The airport didn’t look like much, which made sense. If they were trying to keep me off the radar, flying into an empty local airport somewhere, would keep there from being many people around who might notice and talk about it. We were whisked into another black Suburban. The vehicle and a follow care were gone from the airport almost before anyone watching would have registered that we were ever there.

My wheelchair had been haphazardly tossed into the rear of the Suburban and might have been damaged. We’d have to see when we got to wherever they were taking us. It was dark which made figuring out our location through seeing landmarks impossible, and my keepers weren’t disposed towards conversation, so I sat in quiet ignorance while they managed my life for me.

We were driven way out of whatever town where we landed. During the ride, the weariness caught up with me and I nodded off. The rest must have been needed, because the next thing I knew the door beside me was opening and an agent was motioning me into the wheelchair.

We were outside of a lakefront resort somewhere. It looked pretty deserted, but it was late, so I figured that might have been due to the hour. The place was set on a hillside that ran down to a large lake. The water looked inviting, and I could imagine Sienna and me swimming in the warm sunshine one day soon.

Our minders moved us smoothly from the vehicle to a cabin located a little ways away from the reception building. The owners had installed a wheelchair ramp that made access easy for me and my chair. Once inside, they walked Sienna around to familiarize her with their preparations for our stay. It seemed that the FBI did some shopping, stocked the fridge, and tried to think of things we would need for the duration. Everyone could see that I was almost asleep sitting in my wheelchair, so they wrapped it up after assuring Sienna that they would have an agent outside at all times and another in the adjoining cabin.

We were finally alone. Sienna laughed, and said, “Well, it’s been an interesting day. Don’t you think?” She could see that I was far too tired for chipper conversation and we went our separate ways to prepare for bed. Inside the smaller of the two bedrooms I used the bathroom and bushed my teeth before tackling undressing and going to bed.

It was a good thing I did.

It was only three minutes later when a knock came on the back door of the cabin. Sienna answered and invited two agents in. They looked anxious and spoke with a quiet urgency. “We might have a problem. There is a strong likelihood that your location has already been blown by an administrative error.”

Sienna looked terrified, but I wanted to hear the whole story, so I took her hand and asked with my eyes that she calm down and listen. “We have a contractor ready to take you to a location where you will be safe, that no one knows about. He is not an FBI agent. He is a contractor we use in unusual circumstances. The chances of anyone figuring out where you went are just about zero, and you can relax instead of worry about people showing up with guns.

“We want to sneak you out the back door while anyone watching thinks you’re both in here getting ready for bed. By the time they might figure out that you aren’t here, you’ll be so far away that following will be out of the question.”

Talking about people coming after us with guns didn’t help Sienna’s frame of mind any, so I spoke up. “Sienna, you’re not anyone’s target. I am. Go home and let me go with this guy and stay out of the line of fire for as long it takes to let the police do their work.

“I’m not afraid, and I’m fine without a nurse. You know it and I know it, so admit it and let’s make you and me safe.”

I could tell the agent thought that was a marvelous idea. He first had to wait out Sienna while she mulled it over. Eventually she came to a decision, just as I predicted, and hugged me before speaking. “You are so brave. Please be careful and don’t overdo anything. As soon as this thing is over you are coming home to live with me, so make sure you live through whatever those awful people want to do to you.” She hugged me again.

The agent in charge said, “Sienna, you will stay here and walk around. Turn on and off lights, flip the TV channels back and forth a little, and generally act like you do when you’re home. That will give us time to sneak Ross out and then do the same to get you out before morning.” He looked pleased that we were cooperative.

The first agent pointed towards the kitchen, “We’re not leaving by the front door,” he said, grimly. “We have a pretty circuitous route for you and it starts right now.”

He flipped a switch and the lights went out in the back of the cabin. Once we were in the dark, he led me carefully out the back door. I knew I could walk and that freed him up to cover our back, while a second agent carried my wheelchair. It wasn’t far, but it was very dark. As we approached a small knot of agents, I saw a golf cart waiting for us, with a cowboy at the wheel.

He was a real cowboy. He wore a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. His flannel shirt shouted cowboy and the gun on his hip, coupled with the rifle over his shoulder, completed the ensemble perfectly.