Double Team
Chapter 230
“All he cares about here on the edge of forever, is her. He does not want to die. Not because he is afraid. Simply because he cannot bear the thought of leaving her behind.”
—Amie Kaufman, Illuminae
A SIREN PIERECED THE AIR as Amanda distracted Mr. Blue Suit. I think he was about to tell us all about how we’d lost him billions of dollars, but what I heard was that he was going to kill us. Me specifically, but it only took an instant to recognize that once he started firing, my wives were targets, too. So, I was already dead. That took the fear away. As he swung the gun up and toward Amanda, I rushed him and pounded him back against the door, trying to wrap my arms around him.
The shot was only slightly muffled between our bodies and I felt pain tear through my right shoulder like lightning. The impact spun me to my right but I held my grip with my left hand and dragged him with me as we fell to the floor and I felt a second bullet tear through my arm. Shit! I wasn’t sure how many bullets it would take for him to kill me, but I could see in his eyes how many he was willing to use. With all my weight on his arm, pinning the gun between us, he couldn’t twist it free to make a killing shot. I didn’t feel the third one.
Then Mr. Blue’s face and right eye blossomed in blood as I heard a scream I could only equate with Cindy’s orgasms. Bouncing off his face was her flute as it was drawn back for a second crack. I felt a blow on the inside of my left thigh but not high enough to do me damage. Blue stiffened and cried out, his struggles beneath me suddenly weakened as Cindy’s flute hit him in the other eye. A chop to his throat as I was rolled aside caused him to gasp.
I couldn’t see anything else. I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling as Donna pressed something against my shoulder and arm. There was a commotion as the door burst open with such force that when it hit me in the head, I lost consciousness.
“I never get tired of seeing you arrive,” the voice said.
“No,” I said. “Quit playing games. I’m not dead. Those shots are going to be painful but not fatal. I’m going back.”
“Okay. We figured that.”
“So why am I here?”
“You’re going to be stuck in rehab again for a while. I’m sorry to say this but you might not play the guitar again.”
“Fuck!”
“You’ve surprised us before.”
“It doesn’t make a difference. Music is important but it’s not my reason for living.”
“Do tell. Do you think you are such a valuable political asset to this world that you’ll change it and reform its evils?”
“What I can do about that is already done. It’s not my reason for living, either.”
“Enlighten us. You lived eighty years on one dimension and then entered the body in this dimension you’ve inhabited for four and a half years. You got your harem. You changed the world. You played music to fill your heart. You earned a substantial income without having gambled with knowledge of the future or stolen inventions that weren’t due yet. What is your reason for living?”
“Love. V1 said he had a good life. I meant I was successful and lived comfortably. At the time, that seemed like enough to want to go on living another hundred years. But it was just stuff. He never knew the depth of passion and love I feel for my wives. I don’t want to leave that love behind.”
“What are you going to do with this new knowledge?”
“Play it in my music. If I can’t play, I’ll write it in my stories. But most of all, I’ll live it in my life.”
“If that’s what you truly want, I’d suggest you try to not have a target painted on you all the time.”
“Life isn’t risk-free.”
“Good luck, Jacob. You’re nearly to the hospital. We’ll return you now to your regularly scheduled program.”
I woke up being wheeled down a brightly lit corridor. Shock overcame the pain in my shoulder. I could feel pressure. Indistinct faces blurred in my vision. Voices I couldn’t understand spoke in my ear. In a few minutes, a mask was over my face and everything went dark.
I woke up slowly. Cindy saw me first and was immediately by my side. Wow! They allowed her in my hospital room at only seventeen. I wondered if Texas had gotten around to acknowledging plural domestic partnerships. Or maybe Nanette and Donna, closing in behind her, had been so vocal and demanding that the hospital decided it was easier to give an inch than fight the battle.
“Jacob!” Cindy squealed. She had hold of my left hand and buried her face against my left shoulder to cry Nan and Donna reached me and stroked my chest and head. They were all here. I’d lost track of how many shots were fired but it was apparent none of them hit my wives. I squeezed Cindy’s hand.
“Sorry about your flute, Piper,” I rasped.
“It can be replaced! You can’t!”
“We’ll have to see about that. I might not be able to play again. But don’t worry, Cindy Marvel is a household name and you will always be popular.”
“Shut up, stupid. Don’t talk about things you don’t know about. You’ll be fine,” she cried.
“Hey, Piper. Take it easy, love. I’ll do the best I can.”
“You always do the best you can, Jacob,” Donna said as she leaned over Cindy to kiss my forehead. “You’re our hero. You saved all our lives.”
“I was already dead. The only thing I could think of was saving you.”
“You aren’t dead, love,” Nanette said softly.
“As soon as he showed the gun and said he was committing a capital offense, I was dead,” I said. “There was no way I could defend against him or talk my way out of it. So, facing the gun didn’t scare me. In my mind, I was already dead. I just charged him. It might have been one of the stupider things I’m allowed to claim I’ve done. Cindy, how’s your flute?”
“A twisted wreck.”
“She damaged both his eyes with it,” Donna said. “After I kicked him in the balls, Nanette got you off him and Cindy and I got the gun away. The fight was pretty much gone from him by then.”
“I got a zip tie from your pack and tied his hands while Donna stripped her shirt off and pressed it against your shoulder. The demon Cindy stood with her foot on his throat and her flute shoved into his mouth while I got it tied.”
“Then the police burst through the door and knocked you out. I have to say, though, they were quick and professional at assessing the situation. An EMT followed them into the room and took over from Donna while an officer pushed the man in blue out of the way and checked to see that we were all right,” Nanette said.
“How did they get there so fast?” I asked.
“There were still police in the building after the concert. Amanda blasted out her siren and preempted the police communication channel to direct them to the dressing room. It took them about two minutes,” Nan said. “She’s a pretty clever little pile of shit, you know?”
“Where is she?”
“I’m here, Jacob,” the little computer said from the table on the other side of me. I turned to look at her.
“Thank you for your fast action and for alerting the police.”
“When Carson O’Neil, the man you have referred to as the Blue Suit, entered the room behind you, Amanda’s emergency protocol activated. Amanda has no active defenses but passive defenses worked flawlessly. Now that Jacob is out of danger, emergency protocol has deactivated and Amanda finds the relaxed circuits to be… pleasant,” the computer said.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to a feeling, Amanda.”
“Amanda is struggling to define an electrical status with non-technical words. It is… pleasant.”
Rachel arrived about two o’clock Sunday afternoon and came straight to the hospital. I was afraid everyone in the household was going to descend on Fort Worth. But Rachel was on a mission direct from Will Forsythe and the Office of Civilian Service. My wound was considered to be employment related and Will had met with senior staff, Rachel, and Dr. D the entire time I was in surgery. Rachel was armed with service directives regarding my care. The rest of the family was preparing to receive me back in DC as soon as possible.
Dr. Elias Worth joined us in the room half an hour after Rachel arrived—almost like he had a scheduled appointment.
“Jacob, you’re doing well. How’s the pain level?” he asked.
“I don’t really feel much from that part of my body,” I said. “I can’t move my arm.”
“Surgery went well and you were extremely lucky the bullet and flying particles caused only minor nicks in the major blood vessels. Had one been severed completely, you might have bled out before we got you to the operating table. We got those repaired and spent most of the surgery searching for and removing bone splinters in the muscle and joint.”
“Is that why I can’t move my arm?”
“We immobilized the joint to prevent damage to the articular cartilage—that cap on the humerus we commonly refer to as the ball in the joint. It escaped without damage but the glenoid did not. Let me show you. We use this little model to tell people in for joint replacement what happens. This is the scapula, what you call your shoulder blade. Its size is partly to stabilize the base of the joint so stress is distributed across the back instead of all focused on a narrow bone. The scapula is the bone that creates the socket of the joint or glenoid. At pointblank range, the nine millimeter bullet penetrated the soft tissue of your muscles and struck the scapula here, just behind the glenoid socket. This is the strongest part of the scapula but most vulnerable to shattering instead of simple penetration. I’m afraid that is what you are facing. The glenoid itself is damaged, but the supporting bone structure is shattered. That’s what kept us picking bone fragments out of your muscles. It also means that until we could consult with you, we’ve immobilized the joint to prevent further damage.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned. I reduced all his med-talk to ‘your shoulder is fucked up.’ I looked over at Rachel. She was nodding.
“Dr. Worth, I know Jacob is thanking you, even while he’s moaning. And the National Service is thanking you for your excellent care. I hope you will not be offended by our decision to have Jacob moved home before the next phase of care is begun. The assessment you’ve given was forwarded to our team at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. We not only have the surgical team needed for this kind of shoulder reconstruction, we have fabricating facilities that will help us turn out exactly the parts needed for a full recovery.”
“Johns Hopkins? I expected Walter Reed, but I suppose that’s military, isn’t it? You certainly can’t get better care than Johns Hopkins, Jacob. My vanity might say I could do as good a job at the surgery, but there is no way we can match the full team and facilities you’ll have there. If you are in agreement with Ms. Evans’s plan, we’ll make sure you are given the best traveling medication we can arrange and release you in the morning to return to Washington, DC. I’m sure you want to get back to your family as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, doctor. Believe me when I say my move back home does not in any way diminish how grateful I am that you were here last night to patch me up and save my life.”
“Mmmhmm. Leave a review on Yelp,” he chuckled. “If you aren’t in pain right now, we’ll leave the drip at its current setting. Do not hesitate to press your call button if there are any changes in your comfort. Ms. Evans, we should have the paperwork for discharge ready by nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Will that be sufficient for your flight plans?”
“We’ll make it so,” she laughed.
And so, I spent the night in a Fort Worth hospital with my four beloved wives taking turns sitting with me. In the morning, I was dressed, put in a wheelchair, and loaded in a medi-cab for a trip to the airport.
“What’s this, Rachel?” I asked as we pulled into the charter terminal and were waved through by uniformed National Service corps members. We rolled to a stop in front of a small jet with the stairs down for boarding. Cindy, Nan, and Donna were already there and directing the stowing of my instruments. My chair was wheeled to the base of the stairs and Rachel supported me to the top where a flight attendant was waiting for me.
“I’m Anna,” the attendant said. “I’ll help keep you comfortable on your flight. I’m also a registered nurse and am qualified to help in the transport of patients and render emergency aid. It’s not that long a flight to Baltimore. Our flight time will be about three hours. If you need to use the head, please let me accompany you and support you to it.”
“Wow! Thank you, Anna. I’m good right now.”
“Let’s get you buckled in. I’m suggesting the right side of the aisle since that will protect your arm from being bumped around. After we get airborne and the captain indicates we can move around, I’ll fix you and your wives a meal. I understand you’ve had nothing but hospital food lately. I promise an improvement.”
Rachel settled into the seat facing me.
“We’ll trade around,” she said. “You don’t have to be locked into staring at me for the whole trip.”
“I’d stare at you for days, lover,” I said. “But I love staring at my other wives, too.” I twisted my head to look around the luxurious Falcon 50 jet. “I appreciate the attention and care,” I whispered, “but can we afford this? We could have flown commercial.”
“Interesting thing,” she smiled. “Sunday morning, while I was getting ready to fly to your rescue, the video of your attack was released to all the major news networks.”
“Video? There was video?”
“Amanda went into auto record mode when her emergency protocols activated. Will Forsythe had a copy on his computer while you were still in surgery. He called an emergency meeting with Ron, Jo, Dr. D, and me. It was about four in the morning. Oh, and Abigail. I would guess the President has been updated hourly on your condition.”
“All that for me?”
“I’d like to say yes and they certainly beat that into my head when I was near hysterics in the office. But it was probably motivated just as much by Carson O’Neil, your assailant. We released video of his threats back in June, remember? He was clearly identified as representing RSI. The phones were ringing on Will’s desk within ten minutes after the new video aired yesterday morning. RSI is distancing itself from O’Neil. They claimed he was acting on his own and had been dismissed from RSI employment right after the original video aired. He’d further been deported from China as an undesirable.”
“Why didn’t they send him back here for prosecution?”
“There are no extradition treaties with China, so even though he was wanted here, he was able to pick his own deportation destination. He’s been in Korea the past few months from what we gathered.”
“That still doesn’t explain this treatment,” I said.
“RSI wanted to show they are not the bad guys in all this. I don’t know how much they offered as opposed to how much Will extorted from them, but they are paying for this flight, your hospital stay, your surgery, your care and housing until you are fully recovered, and loss of services to the National Service. All as a token of good faith that they had no ill will toward you nor vested interested in the current legislation.”
I shivered. “After everything I’ve said and implied about their involvement, it’s a little spooky to be on a plane they are paying for.”
“The plane has been checked out and the pilots are National Service Corps pilots. We’re safe,” Rachel said. The plane taxied to the runway and in ten minutes we were airborne. I relaxed. A little.
Cindy sat opposite me for the luncheon of London broil and new potatoes and a mushroom-scallion sauté. Anna also served a lovely Greek salad. Nanette sat across the aisle from us. Donna and Rachel were in the next seat back sharing the same excellent meal.
After the meal was finished and Anna cleared the dishes and stowed the tables, she excused herself.
“Call if you need me,” she said. “I’ll finish cleaning up the dishes in the galley and then just be reading my magazine in the jumpseat up front. We’re still seventy minutes out of Baltimore. Relax.”
I was certainly ready to relax as she pulled the curtain between the passenger area and the galley. Cindy had other ideas. She was on her knees between the seats and unfastening my belt as Nanette moved to the seat she’d just vacated to lean forward and play with Cindy’s breasts. Rachel knelt next to me kissing me as Donna leaned over the seat to reach my protected side. This was a well-coordinated attack and I wondered when my wives had worked out the details.
It made no difference in the long run. My cock was inhaled into Cindy’s mouth and practically down her throat. While she fellated me, Donna kept whispering in my ear how much I was loved and cherished by my partners. She punctuated each statement with a kiss on my ear or neck or head. Rachel had managed to pull my shirt open enough that she could suck my left nipple into her mouth.
Cindy’s active bobbing on my cock had the desired results in minutes and I flooded her with my come. I sat back, exhausted and overwhelmed, as Rachel tucked my clothes back together. I watched Nanette pull Cindy back into her and snake her hand down our young wife’s pants as they kissed. I looked up to see Donna and Rachel rewarding each other as well.
I could really get used to private jets.
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