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The ride to the hospital was uneventful, with Torres and Nguyen giving us a police escort and Mack and his crew following to serve as tail gunners. Emily lay on a stretcher next to me and, for a change, I was the one assuring her that everything would be fine rather than the other way around. I was appreciating this lady in a brand-new light.
Of course, as she was pretty groggy, we weren’t having long philosophical discussions. I was thinking maybe a concussion. And I was working hard to hold back my own pain that had separated into three distinct throbs: one in my gut, and the other all over, and a new one in my right wrist. My joints seemed to compete with the stab wound. I’m sure I felt every crack in the city’s streets and I vowed again that after I finished with Nazis, I was going to take issue with Lancaster’s city council.
While I might bitch about the local roads, there was no doubting the expertise at the hospital. They whisked Emily and me into the building where a platoon of nurses, orderlies, and doctors took charge.
Before the curtain on my cubicle closed, I saw Simon speaking with a nurse as Mack stood guard, eyes glaring as he scanned the people in the room. Knowing I was safe from Russell and his people, I relaxed and answered the nurse’s questions. When I explained I was a stage-four cancer patient, that stopped them for a minute while the doctor called upstairs to the oncologist for his input.
Seems like I was causing a fuss.
Finally, a doctor pushed through the curtain. He wasted no time examining the knife wound. Making a notation to chart, he nodded at the nurse.
“Doc, any chance you can tell me how Emily is?” I asked through gritted teeth. “She came in with me with a blow to the head.”
For the first time, he looked at my face. He was in his sixties with a head of silver over a pair of thick glasses that made his eyes look like an owl. I saw recognition cross his features.
“You’re the fellow who's been raising cain with the extremists?”
“Guilty as charged,” I said.
“Was it one of those who did this?” he said, pointing his chin at my gut to indicate the wound he had just covered.
I nodded.
“I hope you got a piece of him, because he almost made you forget the cancer you’ve been dealing with. Even so, this wound might make things a lot more complicated. Your oncologist should be here momentarily to determine what she can do for you.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about patching the other guy up, Doc. He’s going to a different department.”
His grey-blue eyes studied me before he leaned forward. “As a physician I’m not supposed to be happy about that, but my father lost two brothers in the war, so I won’t tear up anytime soon.”
He squeezed my arm. “I’ll check on your friend.”
I slipped in and out until a nurse came in to fix me with an intravenous. Minutes later, I was out for good.
***
AN ANNOYING BEEPING woke me and through a fog, I took in my surroundings. It took a few minutes before my confused mind made out that I was in a hospital room. It took a little more time before I remembered the attack and my injury. I reached down and tenderly felt the bandages that were wrapped around my abdomen. Even that effort felt exhausting. On my right wrist was a black wrist-splint that left my hand mostly free.
Eventually, a nurse swept into the room. Seeing that I was awake, a friendly smile crossed her face.
“Welcome back, Mr. Wilson,” she said. “You must be thirsty.”
I nodded, running my thick tongue across the inside of my mouth.
She raised the bed, so I was sitting up, then held a little jug of water while positioning a straw for me. It was a blessing and after a cough, I felt better.
“Can you find my glasses?
From a side table that I hadn’t seen, she retrieved my specs. After wiping them clean, she handed them to me, and I mashed them to my face.
“Thanks.”
She smiled and pointed a button clipped to bedsheet. “If you need anything, just give me a buzz.” With that, she left me to my thoughts.
I lay there for awhile staring at the ceiling when my oncologist entered the room. Last time I saw her she had told me I had months to live. Damn, it felt like such a long time ago.
“Hi Doc,” I said with a smile. “How’s it going?”
“Mr. Wilson,” she said, her tone hinting surprise. She pulled my chart and looked up in shock. “Of course, I’ve followed your crusade with interest, but never suspected it involved you in the actual fighting.”
“Careful Doc,” I said, enjoying her discomfort. “You’ll be infringing on my rights as a senior citizen.”
“Make light of it, if you will, but as I explained to you a few months ago, you are pretty sick, Mr. Wilson. You should be in bed, not running around the country tilting at windmills.”
“I don’t run from a fight, and they weren’t windmills. If my actions made even a little difference, then my life—or death—will be worth it, Doc. That has to be better than lying in a bed waiting to die.”
She stared at me in disbelief.
The door opened again and cut our philosophical discussion short as the ER doctor entered. He nodded at my young oncologist.
“Mr. Wilson, your friend will be all right. She suffered a concussion, but after some time off her feet, she should be just fine. In fact, she was asking about you.”
I smiled. “If either of you needs a tremendous nurse, catch her before they discharge her. I give her a five-star recommendation. There is no way I would have been able to accomplish what I have without her.”
The two physicians exchanged a glance before turning back to me. My oncologist said, “To determine if that knife attack affected the cancer, we’d like to admit you for some tests. A knife wound isn’t going to make your cancer ‘worse’, of course; but apparently, you’ve had some damage to tissues affected by the cancer, and we’d like to have a look at that.”
I nodded. “I figured.”
“How was the pain before the attack?” she asked.
I sighed and decided that the truth might be best. “It’s been getting worse lately. Emily was going to bring me in for something stronger, so I guess I have to thank the little idiot that stuck me for that, at least.”
The poor kid shook her head as if she was dealing with a nutcase, but the older guy saw my point and put a smile on his face. “I’ll get the paperwork started for that,” he said.
***
SUNLIGHT CROSSED THE floor, leaving the rest of my hospital room in shadow. I blinked at the light, realizing that I had slept since dawn which had made itself known a few hours ago. That was the last time I had wrestled with the bedpan since they’d decided not to catheterize me. I was ready to wrestle again.
As I woke further, I allowed my eyes to cross the familiar-looking room. The hospital was a typical, institutional building with heavy walls and highly polished concrete floors that arched together into a graceful curve of baseboard six inches up the wall. Pale green walls. I was fortunate that I was in the old hospital and had been given a private room rather than being in the newer facilities that lumped everyone into an open-concept building that seemed to care little for noise or germ control. Just pack more bodies into the same space. All business; bigger bang for the buck.
I spied movement in the far corner and my heart about tripped over itself until I saw what seemed to be Simon’s wide face grinning at me as he pulled himself out of a chair. But without my glasses, it could have been anyone’s wide face grinning.
“Boker tov, my friend,” he said in greeting. “I got you a private room.” Definitely Simon after all.
“Good morning. How long have you been sitting there?” I found my glasses on the bedside table near a water carafe and put them on.
He glanced at the wall clock and shrugged. “About twenty minutes. You were sleeping soundly, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
I nodded my thanks.
“Mack will be in and out today, but he wanted you to know that his team is outside, and the entire floor should be clear. You should be safe here.”
I nodded.
“He wanted to make sure you got the parcel he sent. You were asleep when he looked in last night.”
I smiled and nodded. “Let him know that I found it during one of my pee breaks and that I appreciate it.”
He looked like he wanted to ask what it was Mack brought for me but changed the topic.
“So, what’s been happening?”
“The police identified the men who attacked the ranch house. They were Russell’s comrades from the NMA’s Atomwaffen Division. The police had warrants out for all of them, so your friends from the FBI were happy to close several open files.”
“Remind me to send them a bill.”
He chuckled.
“No sign of Russell, yet?”
He shook his head, frustration clear on his face. “You’d think with all the police looking for him and with him so badly injured that it would be a straightforward thing...?”
“With any luck, he’s crawled into a hole and bled to death.”
“I’d sleep much better if we could find him, dead or alive.”
I nodded. “This open-ended story is getting tiresome,” I said.
The silence that fell showed that he agreed. There would be no closure without a body.
“On a brighter note,” he continued. “They’ll discharge Emily later today. I’m flying her to Seattle, and she’ll stay with her parents until she’s ready to get back to work.”
I nodded. “We talked a little last night. She’s going to come see me before she goes. I’m going to miss her a lot.”
My heart ached at the thought of kind-hearted Emily leaving me. But of course, I’d be leaving everyone sooner rather than later. Especially after what the tests had revealed.
“Simon,” I said, feeling myself getting emotional. “Thank you for believing in me and for helping me accomplish all that we did. People have woken up and are demanding change.”
“Donald, I may have greased the wheel, but it was your story and your resolve that moved things along. It happened because you cared so much for what you believed in.”
“After what I saw in Germany, how could I do less?”
“Many have. You were not the only Allied soldier who saw the atrocities the Nazis performed not only against Jews, but all those who differed from them. Russians, Communists, Freemasons, and even German citizens. But of all those who knew, you were the only one to stand up to remind the world as the new ones came out of hiding.”
“It might help for a while, Simon, but humans are their own worst enemy. Nazis aren’t the only ones, either. Stalin killed millions of his own people, Chinese Communists killed hundreds of thousands of their own. Then there’s Cambodia, Rwanda and Myanmar. When are we ever going to learn?”
Simon shook his head, his eyes looking dead. What had happened to the Jewish people was horrendous and evil, but genocide was ongoing. And unless the countries killing their own have something the world needs, like oil or the rare earths needed in microchips and solar panels, superpowers turned blind eyes.
He lifted his head and sighed. “Then, praise God, we must count our blessings when we win even a minor battle.”
I nodded. “I just wish someone smarter than me can figure a way to do it without a repeat of the other day. There’s been enough blood spilled.”
“Amen.”
He walked over to me and held out his hand. “Thank you again, my friend, on behalf of me—and my people.”
I shook his hand, grimacing at the pain in my stomach.
“And don’t worry, Mack and his team will be with you until Russell is found or...”
I nodded, biting my lip to control the overwhelming emotion. We’d shared a lot together.
With a tilt of his head, he turned and left me to my thoughts.
***
I WOKE WITH A START, gasping, as pain flared in my gut and was echoed in my pelvis. I was uncertain what woke me, but the room was completely dark, except for light in the bathroom. In the distance, I could hear the wail of an ambulance; and as I listened, I could tell it was inbound to the hospital. Someone was having the worst day in their life.
The closed curtain around my bed bowed inward as a breeze caressed it. I was cozy under crisp sheets, enjoying the warmth of a flannel heated blanket.
Then I heard the sound a second time, the one that had wakened me. This time, it was unmistakably the sound of a gunshot.
Joseph Russell.
I didn’t need a crystal ball to know he was making his move. I was dying, and because he was too, he had no choice but to strike now or lose his chance forever.
Muffled yells of alarm and even a scream suddenly echoed through the thick door to my room. Muffled, but unmistakable in the quiet of the night.
The door to my room thumped open a few inches just as there was the sound of another gunshot, before falling closed again. In the distance, I could hear sirens approaching.
I tried to sit, but the hole in my stomach, the cancer and the cracked pelvis all protested together, and I fell back with a whimper, as pain, like anvil lightning, flashed across my whole being, making me blink repeatedly just to stay conscious.
As I watched, there was another report and the door slammed open wide. I watched, horrified, as Mateo pitched backwards, as if the noise had catapulted him, his right side slick with blood. He grunted as he hit the polished concrete floor, skidded to the far wall, and lay still. The door hissed closed again.
There was no sound for a heartbeat, but then the heavy wooden door swung slowly open again. A head poked through with eyes wild and wide as Russell’s gun hand pushed the door fully open. He staggered into the room, panting with excitement, exertion and obvious pain. He let the door swing shut and leaned against it as it closed. With the barrel of the pistol, he hit the light switch and both of us blinked at the intensity of the fluorescents.
Russell wore hospital scrubs with an overcoat and surgical cap. The left sleeve of the overcoat hung empty, but the fabric was puddled with blood soaking through.
He took one look at me, cowering in the bed helplessly before tracking the gun out the door towards Mateo slumped against the far wall.
“No!” I screamed.
He glanced at me, and his mouth broke into a ragged, evil smile before returning his attention to the ex-soldier.
“You fucking coward!” I yelled. “It’s me you want. Come and get me. You’ve been too chickenshit to meet me man to man. Now’s your chance.”
He leaned forward, shaking the pistol towards me. “Don’t worry, you old piece of shit. You’re next.”
“And who’s going to do your dirty work for you, you fucking coward?” I said in a frantic attempt to keep his attention towards me rather than my friend lying helpless and unmoving. “You always strike from your safe little hidey-hole. You let others take point, because you’re too cowardly to stand up and fight. Just like Hitler hiding in his bunkers, and like all those losers you follow. You’re all made of the same color of shit.”
He snarled and turned towards the bed, waving a heavy, large-bored weapon at me. “I’m gonna make you suffer, you old fuck! You’re going to die slow! If fact, I’m going to use this.” As he spoke, he tucked his heavy revolver into a pocket of the coat and pulled out a blade. But it wasn’t just any kind of knife. I had only seen its kind in the Commandant's quarters at Dachau. It was a real SS dagger, and I knew there would be an acid-cut engraving Meine Ehre Heißt Treue or ‘My Honor is Loyalty’ on the blade under a hilt marked with a swastika.
My eyes grew wide at the sight of the dagger. It looked authentic, and I wondered how Russell could have ever come across it. I knew it would be worth a small fortune.
“This blade was my grandfather’s, and I will cut your heart out in his honor,” he snarled, leaning threateningly towards me.
“I don’t think so. Your grandfather was scum and so are you!” With that, I lifted the service pistol that Mack had delivered to me the night before to comfort me. I didn’t bother to pull the sheet away, but simply raised the gun from where it lay beside me and fired at Russell’s hate-filled face. The heavy 230 grain bullet cut through his skull and slammed his body back to the opposite wall. The kick from the pistol felt like it broke my wrist, and the sound of the shot deafened me.
I heard nothing for a while.