Chapter 13

As soon as I was safely aboard the helicopter, one of the other agents asked for the phone I used that came off the dead attacker. He used some sort of device to download all the data, hoping to find out who they were communicating with.

“Even if this phone wasn’t used to arrange for your attack, Ross, the numbers called and calling it will lead us to other phones that were used, and we will track down the people who participated in setting you up.” Fred spoke with authority, making me believe that they would be able to track down Breaker’s murderers and take them down.

He asked me very pointed questions concerning the attacks, and his face took on a disbelieving look as I carefully walked him through how Breaker kept me alive, and armed me enough to make a stand out there alone after they killed him. The judge stared at us open mouthed, completely flummoxed by what we’d been through. He alternated between listening and talking to Judge Marshall back home, keeping her informed. From what I could see, neither judge was impressed with how the FBI looked after me.

Judge Marcus seemed very concerned about my health and kept asking if I was hurt, or feeling sick. He told Judge Marshall he would call her later and used his phone to speak with Doctor Halberstadt, giving him and Sienna an update on my rescue. Apparently Doctor Halberstadt didn’t completely understand what the judge was trying to tell him, because he interrupted the doctor, and said, “Doctor, I think you are wrong there. Ross won’t brag about it, but we know he single handedly shot down a helicopter that was filled with bad guys sent to kill him. The FBI guys are struck dumb after finding out the things this boy went through and how well he defended himself.

“I’d say whoever thought that they were going to have an easy job taking out a small, sick, child is in for the shock of their lives when the FBI rolls them up and takes them to jail ... Yes ... He is right here beside me and appears fine ... Nope ... I can’t find a single injury on him. He says he helped bandage his guardian when he was shot and dragged the mans’ body somewhere safe after he died, but there seems to be no physical damage to Ross ... You’ll know more when we get him somewhere safe and a doctor gets a chance to examine him.”

The judge handed me the phone. “Hello...”

“Ross, this is Doctor Halberstadt. The FBI is flying you to a military base where we will have a pediatrician check over from head to toe. It sounds like you managed to come out of this without doing any additional damage to your body, so that certainly sounds positive, but you need to understand in your condition, you can’t do what other people do. The kinds of stresses you put yourself through could cause the same type of short circuit that happened in court, and I might not be there to help start your heart again.

“PLEASE be careful, son. You are so important to us and we don’t want to anything bad to ever happen to you again...” He continued to exhort me to more sedate activities, but I wasn’t the one sending killers to shoot me. All of my energies were spent staying alive. If given the choice, did he think I would choose to get into shootouts in the desert?

Sienna grabbed the phone and spoke to me. “Ross? I was so scared when they said you were in danger. The FBI promised me that you were going to be perfectly safe and away from those people. Somehow they followed you all the way out to the desert. Please promise me you will be careful and take good care of yourself until we get you back home...” Her transparent affection for me was comforting and I wished we were together, too. Knowing what I would be bringing to her house if I did come back while this was still going on stiffened my spine and I didn’t tell her how much I missed her.

We landed at an Army base and were met by a group of Military Police officers with dogs and machine guns. Killer, Spike and Princess spent a few moments acclimatizing themselves to the new dogs, but no aggression broke out on either side. The dogs availed themselves of the grassy area while a black Suburban pulled up and disgorged two men in suits and another man dressed like a rancher.

As soon as the dogs saw the third man they ran to him, barking and wagging their tails in joy. He stooped down and hugged them all affectionately, before addressing us. “Young man, I am Carlton Hayes. Breaker and Sam were my sons.” He stepped forward and shook my hand, before hugging me tightly.

The pain in his face was obvious, as was his anger. “I know you tried to help my son and I am eternally grateful for your courage and fortitude. The people who killed my boys and tried to kill you punched a ticket for a ride they are not going to enjoy, and I promise you they will never have another minute of rest for the rest of their short lives.”

The dogs were plainly his and they were ecstatic to be reunited. The two men in suits opened up the rear gate of the Suburban and all three dogs hopped up like they had done it numerous times before. I broke away from the judge and ran to hug Princess before they left me forever. She licked my face and used her neck to pull me closer, before releasing me and curling up for the ride.

I made sure they knew that I tried to help Breaker and where they would find his body. It was hard, but I apologized for not doing more, and the old guy wept and hugged me tightly, before pulling himself together and walking to their vehicle. As they pulled out, I waved to my three friends, knowing I’d never see them again.

The U.S. Military was anxious to get me off of their airport ramp and out of the sun. The officer in charge smiled as I watched the Suburban disappear, and said, “Young fellow, you have an appointment with a doctor that drove out here just to give you a once over, so let’s get you out of this hot sun and inside where the good doctor can do his thing and go home...” We were escorted to the waiting vehicle and driven to the base hospital, where I met Doctor Roger Livingood: Pediatrician.

The doctor was somewhere between sixty-five and eighty. He smiled and laughed all the time he examined me for new injuries and to get a look at how my existing ones were healing up. For his age he was energetic, positive and lovable. The hour he spent going over my chart and body was as enjoyable as any physical examination can be.

When he finished up, he patted me on the back, and said, “For someone who died a few weeks ago, I’d say you are doing remarkably well. Most youngsters who’ve been through the ringer you’ve experienced die and stay dead. I’m amazed to have read of your trauma and find you so healthy. Whatever you are doing seems to agree with you. Keep doing it, but be very careful. When a young person’s heart stops like yours did, they often find they are much weaker afterwards for a long, long time. Sometimes they die a short time later.