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Chapter Sixteen

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When Simon Krakow, who’d arranged my trip, heard about the incident, he flew immediately to Portland and brought company. They shoved open the hospital door to my room with enough energy to startle both Jeremy and me.

Jeremy had been sharing pictures his wife, Miriam had sent him. His children had made of drawings of him and me traveling across the country in a sleek jet. His kids reminded me of my own grandchildren. The drawings slipped off the bed, with the fast-opening door, causing Jeremy to jump for them

A massive brute of a man with high cheekbones and dark eyes and wearing a dark suit entered the room ahead of Simon. The man’s eyes swept the entire room for threats. Seeing none, he stepped over to one side and assumed a relaxed, at-ease position. But it did not fool me. He looked like he was ready and capable of walking through a wall.

As Simon strode into the room, I saw another similarly built man standing outside the room before the closing door cut off my view.

Simon stood at the foot of the bed, and from the hard glint in his eyes, I could see he was livid.

“Donald,” he said in a voice that sounded more like a growl. “Are you trying to be a bloody martyr?” His finger swung up and took aim at Jeremy. “And you were supposed to be looking after him! Schmendrick!

Jeremy’s mouth dropped open.

“It wasn’t Jeremy’s fault,” I countered, my own anger rising. I flinched at the pain in my hip that flared as I tried to sit up higher in the bed. “And I don’t need any looking after. I’ve been doing that for a lot longer than you.”

His mouth twisted into a lip-curling smile. “Yeah, I can see how well both of you are at doing at that.” Then he let out a sigh, visibly relaxed, and shook his head. “So, what’s the extent of your injuries?”

As Jeremy and I filled him in on what the doctor had told us, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Well, that’s it. There’s no way we’ll be able to continue the tour.”

“Why the hell not? I can still talk from a wheelchair, Simon. It’s not much different from what I was doing earlier. And now with this attack, I’m living proof that modern Nazis are just as brutal as the originals. I can use that in my speech, in fact. It’ll add weight to the message.”

Simon stared at me, and I could see he was fighting some kind of inner war with himself. I could tell he didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, so I decided to play my trump card.

“I have something to tell both you and Jeremy, but you're going to want to sit down for it,” I said, my eyes flicking at the enormous man standing guard across from me. Simon moved hesitantly towards a chair beside Jeremy’s, almost like he was afraid to hear what I had to say. He glanced at Jeremy, who shook his head in obvious bafflement.

“Simon, I know you’re worried about me getting hurt on your watch, but this is my only opportunity to make a difference. Two months ago, my doctor back home diagnosed me with terminal, stage four, pancreatic cancer. The doctor has given me maybe six to seven months to live, and that clock has been ticking for two months already.”

Both men looked stunned and exchanged a look before returning to gawk at me. “Don’t look so shocked! You know how old I am, anyhow. So, you see, I’ve got nothing to lose. Even if Joseph Russell had killed me, it would have advanced the message ten-fold. The impact of that might have cleared the fog from an America that’s been asleep to a menace that’s become normal, because of assholes like this president and his pack of parasites.”

“You used a name. Are you saying you know the bastard who attacked you?” Simon said, leaning forward.

I nodded. “Sure. His name is Joseph Russell. He’s wanted by the FBI and is a particularly nasty piece of work. I admit, he caught me totally off guard the other day, because I didn’t know he was here. He wasn’t part of the group blocking the entrance to the hall. I think he was waiting to attack me when the opportunity offered itself.”

I explained to them all my history with Russell and what I learned from the FBI agents. I watched as Simon shifted his gaze to the silent stranger across the room. The man merely nodded.

Simon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at his clenched hands as if in prayer. He nodded. “Okay, Donald,” he said, looking up at me. “We’ll continue the tour, but I need your promise that there’ll be no more heroics.”

I nodded. “Promise.”

“This is Mack Knight,” Simon said, indicating the man who stood silently against the wall. “He and his crew will be your new shadow. For your own safety, and for Jeremy’s too, I must ask you to follow any direction or order that Mack or his men give you. So, as to yours and Jeremy’s safety, his word is final. Is that clear?”

“Clear.” I knew I had no choice if I was going to continue with the tour. It was that, or it was clear that Simon would have me on the next flight home.

He glanced over to Jeremy. “That goes for you as well. I need to ensure you are both safe.”

“You won’t hear any argument from me,” Jeremy said with a tired smile.

“As for the cancer, what else do I need to know?”

I shook my head. “Emily, the nurse you hired, is aware of my condition and has put me on pain-management treatment, and I also have a supply of opiates that my oncologist prescribed.” I was about to lie back in the bed when a thought occurred to me. “My family doesn’t know about my condition. I want that kept quiet.”

Simon huffed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable, Donald. I’m glad you’re on my side. I’d hate to have you as an enemy. There’s no give in you.”

I chuckled, “Hmmm. That’s a nice way to call me a cranky, stubborn old fart.”

Simon and Jeremy laughed and nodded. Even Mack smirked, one lip curling upward.

***

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I SPENT ANOTHER THREE days in the hospital; but because I had my own private nurse attending to me, the hospital released me to her care. Instead of returning me to my hotel room though, our small convoy of three vehicles headed north, skirting the area of local protests and riots that were other signs of the decay and decline of the American way of life.

My heart ached as daily we watched our great country seem to fall apart, piece by piece. During the war, the entire country united; and I can say confidently that it was our greatest moment as a nation. But since, we’ve allowed hatred, bigotry, and greed to divide us rather than pulling us together to eliminate them. Were our people and our leaders blind to the fact that it was by working together that we had become one of the greatest countries in the world? But now, we’re at risk of losing it all.

“We’re headed to the airport,” Mack said when I asked what was up. His voice was surprisingly gentle. “I convinced Simon to alter the tour schedule so that we make it harder for the opposition to plan any protests. We’ll only release news of your presentations two days prior to each one, and we’ll bounce back and forth between the coasts. Unless someone bankrolls them heavily, your Joseph Russell and his buddies will waste their time trying to follow us.”

I nodded at the logic, but thank God Simon was picking up the tab. This would not be cheap! I felt a twinge of guilt, knowing the bulging budget was my fault. As well, because of my wheelchair, Simon had to arrange for a scissor lift for me at each airport, because my walking up even a few steps was now impossible. And of course, Mack and his six-man team must cost a ton as well.

Everything was ready by the time we reached the airport, and boarding was smooth. I was helped into a seat, buckled in, and within minutes, felt the thrust of the engines as the Learjet 45 XR jet rocketed down the runway. The way the craft angled, I was able to catch a spectacular glimpse of a sunlit Mt. Hood out the port-side window.

“Richmond, Virginia,” Mack said to my questioning look. “That’s where we’re headed. Fairly large veteran pool and a sizable Jewish representation.”

I nodded.

He stood, pulled his suit jacket off, and hung it neatly over the back of his chair. “Coffee? My treat,” he said with a smile.

“That would be nice.”

The machine in the tiny galley was one of the new gizmos with little cups of coffee brewed one cup at a time.

“So, what’s your story, Mack?”

“Not much to tell. I’m mostly Navajo. Grew up in Arizona on the Colorado River Indian Reservation. Name’s too long, too formal, too White, so we just called it the rez. Didn’t see any future there, so I joined the army just before 911. I ended up in the 7th Special Forces Group, spent two tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq. Once we saw what a shit-show it was there, a bunch of us decided to go out on our own, so we started this protection service. Pays a hell of a lot better than Uncle Sam.”

He placed the steaming coffee on the pull-down table between us with a little bowl of sugar and pretend-sugar packets. His own, he cupped with both hands as if he was cold.

“You must have seen a hell of a lot of action.”

He grunted and nodded. “I’ve seen my share. Shooting coyotes and groundhogs as a kid served me well. I took to soldiering pretty easy.”

That admission didn’t surprise me. He reminded me of a sleek jungle cat. Beautiful to behold, but you wouldn’t want to meet him when he was hunting. He’d tear your throat out before you knew what had happened.

He looked at me. “And you saw your share during your time. I heard one of your presentations.”

I held his eyes and saw similar ghosts in his gaze. I knew he was talking about more than just the action.

“I can only offer the same advice my wife gave me, and she was a nurse during the war.” Staring him in the eye, I said, “Talk about it.”

I sipped the hot bitter liquid, realizing I’d added no sugar. I hadn’t added sugar since my doctor told me I was ‘pre-diabetic’ over five years ago. Considering my cancer, though, I reached over to the bowl and took two sugar packets and stirred them into the remains. Look back towards the huge warrior, I saw he was waiting for more from me.

“Look, Mack,” I said. “The longer you keep whatever it is bottled up inside you, the longer it will eat at you. Think of it as a parasite: the longer you ignore it, the more it creates damage to your system. You expose it, it loses strength and allows you to recover. I’ve gone through this.”

I reached out, grabbed his wrist, and looked squarely at him. “Find someone you trust and let it out. Or find a stranger, like a shrink. It’s all confidential. Just open up.”

He leaned back abruptly, pulling out of my grip. I prayed I hadn’t been too forceful, that he’d retreat further into himself; but he gave me a weak smile.

“I’ll give it some thought.” He pulled on his coffee, draining the cup. “But now, I’d better get some shut-eye before we land.” He patted my shoulder gently, “Thank you for the advice.”

I nodded, and he walked over to one of the recliner seats and stretched himself out before pulling a blanket over his huge frame and instantly falling asleep.