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CHAPTER TWENTY

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Nora and Agent Esposito arrived at the information desk of Manatee Memorial Hospital the same time as Special Agent Montrose. The volunteer at the desk was pleasant and helpful— directing them to the floors and rooms they were looking for.

They shared the elevator to the third floor where special Agent James Montrose got off to babysit Santos, who was handcuffed to the bed. Nora and Esposito went up to the fourth floor to the ward where they would find a slightly-bruised Tito.

Nora opened the door slowly. Tito was watching some game show on the TV. His face was a black and blue mess with a couple of butterfly bandages under his eye and one up by his hair line. A bad split lip had him sucking juice from a straw. Seeing Nora with the agent standing behind her, he shut off the television and tried to pull himself up straighter in the bed. Feeling a bit used by the DEA, he asked, "What are you doing here? Haven't I suffered enough for you guys? I did what you asked, and

look where it got me." He was mad, upset that he had let himself get involved with Richie Cantura and his crazy plans.

"We're sorry it worked out like this," Nora said.

"Yeah, me too. It wasn't supposed to go down like this," Agent Esposito agreed.

"There are a few questions the DEA thought you might help them with," Nora said approaching his bed. He tried to put his juice on the little table beside his bed, and Nora reached out to help him. He gave her a nod. She took the carton from him and placed it on the table.

"I've had some time to think about how this all started and why," Tito said, taking a deep breath. "It's all my fault.  I was cheating the workers and deserved to be fired. I didn't have to go with Richie and get involved with Santos and the drug drops. In that hanger with Santos beating the shit out of me, I learned that I deserved every hit, every punch he gave me." 

"Tito, you don't have to . . ."

Tito stopped her. "No, Nora, I do."

"I thought about how I grew up poor. I hated every minute I spent in the cigar factories of Ybor City. I wanted what the rich guys had, but I didn't want to work for it. My family gave me all they could. They gave me a life I would never have had in Cuba. We had a roof over our heads, food on the table, decent clothes to wear. They gave me the opportunities of a good education, and I threw it in their faces."

Tito started to cry. "What did I get trying to get rich my way—thrown in jail, beaten up by a crazy, sick lunatic? He would have killed me if you guys hadn’t shown up to save my ass."

Nora handed him a tissue to wipe the tears running down his face.

"Thanks, Ms. Hollister. I don't deserve your kindness. Tell Gramps I'm sorry."

Esposito pulled up a chair. Nora found a perch on the bed beside Tito. Nora gave Tito's hand a squeeze, and the agent asked his questions. After a few minutes, he gave Tito and Nora some time alone and sat outside the door.

Downstairs, the volunteer receptionist gave someone else information to Mateo Santos and Tito Ramirez’s rooms. In the elevator, he checked his gun and screwed the silencer onto the muzzle. He watched the numbers change above the door and got out on the fourth floor.

He had his orders and twenty-five thousand dollars in his off-shore account. He was counting on getting the other half when he finished his assignment. He was a Cartel hitman, hired to kill Mateo Santos and Tito Ramirez, a double header and a double pay day.

Down the hallway, he saw a man in a suit sitting in a chair outside the room Ramirez was in. He had to come up with a distraction. Luck had placed the doctors’ lounge across from the elevator doors.   Walking in, he nodded hello to a doctor helping himself to coffee. The doctor nodded back and left with his coffee. The killer picked up a lab coat from the back of a chair, put it on, flipped the ID on the pocket so the photo didn't show and walked out. Passing the nurses’ station, he picked up an unattended stethoscope and threw it around his neck.

"Hey there, how's our patient today?" he asked the man, who he assumed was a federal agent, as he pushed the door open to the room. "I'll be just a moment."

The assailant was surprised to see Nora sitting in a chair beside Tito. She got up and said, "I'll leave you with him. He's resting now. I hope you don't have to wake him up. I'll be right outside if he needs me." Compassion and concern registered in her voice.

"Do you want to get some coffee or anything?"  Nora asked the agent.

Esposito didn't answer right away. He was thinking about cowboy boots. What doctor would wear worn-down cowboy boots? Alarm bells went off in his head. 

"Cowboy boots?" he muttered.

"What?" Nora asked.

He signaled Nora to be quiet—putting his index finger to his lips. The agent got up and went into Tito's room. Easing open the door, he saw the gun with the silencer pointed at the sleeping figure in the bed. Tito must have sensed the danger and opened his eyes—as a shocked and bewildered expression crept across his face.

"No, you don't have to do this. I won't say a word," Tito pleaded.

"So sorry. It’s nothing personal. It's my job, and I'm really good at it."

"Not so good this time. Special Agent Esposito DEA," Esposito said. "Put the gun down now."

"I don't think so, Agent." The man swung the gun towards the agent—ready to fire. Tito made a live-or-die decision and threw the tray lying on his bedside table at the man with the gun.

Startled, the man took his attention from the agent for an instant. It was all Esposito needed. He sprang towards the man, and the gun went off. Searing pain in his shoulder told him he had been hit. The assailant ran out the door, knocking Nora to the floor.

"Push that damn button and get some help in here," the agent shouted to Tito.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Tito said scrambling to find the button to call the nurse.

One floor up, Montrose saw the hospital staff running around and whispering about a shooting. He stopped one of the nurses, "What's going on?"

"Someone tried to kill one of the patients," the nurse said before rushing off.

"Which patient?" he called after her but got no answer.

He went to the nurse's station and insisted that someone call down to get Agent Esposito on the phone.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity before he heard, "Agent

Montrose, this is Doctor Gallagher. Your friend Agent Esposito is on his way to the OR right now."

Montrose interrupted him, "In the OR? What happened? How bad is he hurt?"

"He's fine. He took a bullet to the shoulder, but it missed the brachial artery by a fraction. The young lady with him was knocked to the ground but only her dignity was hurt," the doctor explained.

"What about Tito Ramirez? Was he shot?"

"Mr. Ramirez wasn't hurt and can go home in the morning. His head injury did cause a slight concussion, but he will recover just fine as well."

"When can I talk to Agent Esposito?" Montrose asked, calmer now that he had some information.

"He'll be in recovery for a couple of hours after surgery. You can see him after that. We'll keep him overnight. You can take everyone home tomorrow morning. I have hospital security sitting outside Mr. Ramirez's room for now."

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me."

Nora appeared at his side as he was hanging up the phone. I came down to tell you, but I see you already know what’s happened.”

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, just shaken up," Nora said, leaning on the nurse's station. "Do you think the hit man will come after Santos?"

"I don't know. But you're right about it being a hit. I'll call Dan and have him and Gabe come here. It's a little late to lock down the hospital, but I'll have security check everyone leaving the hospital. I’ll have someone check the security cameras too.   He picked up the phone again and had the operator connect him with security. Then, he called the police station and filled Gabe in. Gabe and Dan were on their way before he hung up the phone.

Cesar Montoya stood in the supply closet looking out the small window at the nurses and doctors running around. Security men were walking up and down the hall. He checked his gun again. He was watching Mateo Santos's room. He still had a job to do. He had been paid, and he always finished the contract, no matter how difficult it was.

The girl he had knocked over upstairs was talking to someone at the nurse's station. They had their backs to him. Now was his chance. He might not get another one. He grabbed a couple of small items off the shelf and casually walked out of the closet and across the hall to Santos’s room.

Nora turned and saw a doctor enter Santos’s room. Strange, she thought. The doctor had cowboy boots on. "Hadn't Esposito said something about cowboy boots?"

She gave Montrose a poke with her elbow and nodded with her head towards the room across the hall.

"The hit man's in Santos’s room. I saw him," Nora whispered. She didn't

want to alarm anyone or cause any noise that might alert the assailant.

Montrose drew his gun and crossed to listen at the door.

"I have a message for you from Escobar. He don't like loose ends," Cesar said.

"I'm not a loose end. I haven't said anything to anyone," Santos stated. All his bravado disappeared at the sight of a gun pointed his way.

"And you won't either," Cesar raised his gun. Santos tried to back away as far as the bed would let him. He was cuffed to the side rail, but panic drove him to try and break free.

Montrose charged in the door just as Cesar pulled the trigger. The gun went off, the bullet lodging in the ceiling. Both men went down in a heap. Cesar was up first and kicked the agent hard in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him.

Nora was about to rush in as Cesar opened the door. She froze on the spot. He stopped for an instant and took off down the hall. Nora grabbed a bed pan off a passing cart and threw it at him as hard as she could. It caught him high in the back, throwing him off balance, and he fell. Without thinking she ran up, picked up the bedpan again and slammed it into his head—knocking him out. She sat down beside Montoya, catching her breath, not quite believing what she had just done.

Gabe pulled her up off the floor and encircled her in a tight embrace. He and Dan had arrived a split second before in time to watch her clobber Cesar Montoya with the bedpan. Some of the nurses were standing around clapping at her heroics.

Dan walked over and took Cesar’s hands and threw a pair of cuffs on him. Gabe watched Montrose stumbled out of Santos’s room holding his bruised ribs. When he saw Cesar on the floor, he assumed that Dan or Gabe had apprehended him.

"Well done, Dan," Montrose said clapping Dan on the shoulder.

"I had nothing to do with it. Nora's pretty deadly with a bedpan," Dan said looking at Gabe holding Nora. She was shaking with her head buried in Gabe's shoulder.

"What? Nora?" Montrose said trying to understand what had happened. “She’s a civilian and a girl to boot.”

"I'll tell you all about it later. We have to get this guy in jail and see what O'Donnell and Baker have learned from Shana. I want to see if what Tito said lines up with her story.

Agents O'Donnell and Baker were at the station when they all returned. Cesar Montoya was now also cuffed to a bed in Manatee Memorial Hospital.

Gina was stunned when she learned how Nora had taken down Montoya. She hugged Nora around the shoulders. "Well, seems we girls can pack a punch when we have to, huh?"

Nora was a bit embarrassed by the attention. "I didn't even think. It all happened so fast. I couldn't let him get away."

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"Let's hear what you got from Shana Fairchild," Dan said.

Gina took a seat at the table and opened her note pad. "Santos took advantage of Shana so he could get information about the airfield and surrounding area. She understands that now. He never told her about the drug business. She thought he was a business man and loved her. The poor girl hoped he would take her with him when he left. Santos lied to her every step of the way." Gina got up to pour herself some water from the cooler in the corner. She paced a bit as she talked. "She overheard him talking to someone once about moving the operation closer to the field."

"That must be when we found that tool shop and Manny what's-his-name," Gabe said.

"Sounds about right," Dan agreed.

"Shana didn't understand what he was talking about but that it seemed urgent. A few days later he showed up with Ramirez and was troubled about something. She knew that they were keeping something in a building nearby, but she didn't know where."

"Okay, so they moved the drug operation closer to the airfield. I bet he got spooked when Jessup turned up dead. We have to get Tito to tell us where the drugs are being kept. The cartel will want to find them before we do," Dan said. He was drawing a time line on the white board at the front of the room, filling in the blanks.

"Tomorrow, we collect Ramirez, Santos, and Montoya from the hospital. We'll split them up and see who wants to talk first," Dan continued.

"Don't forget Agent Esposito," Nora said. It was late in the afternoon by now, and she knew Gramps would start to worry. "Look, guys, this is all fascinating, but I've got to get home. Gramps will be worried, and I have to feed Jasper."

"Who's Jasper?" Gina asked.

"Jasper is her horse," Gabe said rolling his eyes and smiling. "Come on Nora, I'll take you home. You've had enough excitement for one day."

When they pulled up to Nora's house, Rex went wild barking and dancing around Gabe's vehicle. Gramps came out to see what had set off the dog. "Quiet—you foolish thing. You know Nora and Gabe," he shouted at the dog. "'Bout time you got home. I was ready to send out the National Guard to find you. Come on in and tell me what took you all so long."

Sitting at the kitchen table with hot coffee in their hands, Nora told Gramps about the hit man, Cesar Montoya, and his attempts to kill Tito and Mateo Santos. She conveniently left out the part about how she had hit him with the bedpan.

"Agent Montrose will be released with Tito and Santos in the morning," she told him.

"So how did this Montoya fella get caught?" Gramps asked—a bit confused on that part.

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"He tripped and hit his head, knocked himself out," Nora said hastily.

"Umm, I think there is more you're not telling me, but I'll let it go for now," Gramps said reaching across the table to take Nora's hand in his big work-worn fingers. "I'm glad it all worked out, and you're safe at home," he said looking at his dear, brave granddaughter. He couldn't imagine life without her.

"I’d better go. I'm going to head home and get an early start in the morning," Gabe said. "Walk me out?" he asked Nora.

Standing beside his patrol car, Gabe took Nora's hands and drew her towards him. "What am I going to do with you? You could have been seriously hurt or killed by that maniac Santos or the Cartel's hired gun, Montoya. 

"Gabe, I'm not a delicate flower that needs to be taken care of and sheltered," Nora told him.

"Oh, believe me I know that. But I want to take care of you and protect you. Nora, I think I'm falling in love with you." He held his breath waiting for her to answer.

"I feel the same way about you. Only I fell in love with you the minute you walked in the packing house to arrest Tito. I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I won't be set aside because I'm a girl. I can ride and shoot as good as any man—better than some. I've worked in the grove and roped and branded the cattle. If you're looking for a little princess who’s afraid to break a nail, then keep looking 'cause that's not me." When she finished, she looked at the ground—afraid to look at his face.

Gabe tipped her chin to look in her eyes. "You are exactly what I want, you and your Jasper, rifle, and bedpan." He took her mouth with his and possessed her, leaving no doubt in her mind what his intentions were. Her insides turned to jelly, and she wanted so much more. He released her and pushed her back to arm's length. "I think I need to talk to Gramps as soon as this drug business is over," he said.

"Yeah, you do," she replied, glassy-eyed and breathless.

"I’d better go," he said. This time he kissed her gently and walked around to the driver's door. She watched as he drove away, bringing her finger tips to her lips. Could this be real, she wondered, and her heart answered . . . yes.