More Company

After about an hour, the driver woke up with a start. The door creaked, and the nurse walked in with a tray. Seeing him start to get up, she hurried over and set the tray down on his table. "Sorry to wake you," she said apologetically, "but the only thing I could find was a couple of tuna salad sandwiches, and some Jell-O. I've got some ice cream in the freezer at the nurse's station if you want some, and some small milk cartons."

"Thank you nurse," he replied, as he sat up in bed and examined the contents of the tray. His stomach grumbled in anger at being kept empty for so long, as he brought the table around to him to grab one of the sandwiches. Unwrapping it, he took a bite. While it seemed a little dry, he didn't complain, as the nurse looked on. Nodding his head, he said, "This is great. My stomach feels like I could scarf this down with no problem."

"Please try not to do that," she said. "It's time for your medication again. I don't have a double this time, so you should be okay."

Nodding his head in understanding, he set the sandwich down, and lay back in bed. She made sure that he got his nausea medicine first, then added the saline to the pain medicine. Noticing the amount of saline she added, he asked, "Should I need a barf bag?"

"Let's get you one, just in case," she said. Reaching on the wall, she pulled one from the holder, and handed it to him. "Ready?" she asked.

"Let 'er rip," he replied.

Slowly dispensing the medicine, she pushed the plunger on the syringe as he laid back and waited for the effects to take hold. Once she finished, she asked him, "How do you feel?"

"Great," was all he could say, as he lay there for a minute to get his bearings again. Once he became adjusted, he slowly sat back up, and took small bites of his sandwich again, not wanting to waste it in case his stomach started to revolt on him. Looking over at the officer in the chair, he noticed him staring intently. "Are you OK over there officer?" he asked.

Nichols blinked, and said, "Yeah, just smelling that tuna is getting me hungry. Say nurse, can you spare another one of those?" He looked over at her with a questioning look.

"Sure thing, sweetie," she beamed, "I'll be right back."

Looking back at the driver, Nichols asked him, "You sure you're going to be okay eating that much?"

"Just pacing myself slowly for now," the driver replied. "Feel free to join in on some of the Jell-O if you like." He held up a cup of the gelatin for him.

"That's OK, thanks," the officer replied. "If I need anything else, I'll just ask the nurse."

"Good deal," the driver said, as she returned with two more sandwiches, and a cup of coffee. Nichols thanked her, and asked for some sugar and a spoon. Smiling broadly, she disappeared again for a few moments, returning with both items.

"Figured you might need a pick me up," she said to Nichols, as he stirred in the sugar.

"Thank you, ma'am," he smiled, "It's nice to know that you are watching out for more than the patients."

Nodding and leaving, she went back to the nurse's station while Nichols and the driver both ate in silence. Once the driver was done, he called for the nurse to come take the tray away, and told her that he was going to sleep, but first he needed to use the restroom. She unhooked his IV, clamping off the end with the bag, and both she and the officer helped him to the bathroom. Once he was steadied, they waited outside until he relieved himself, then helped him back to the bed. She reinserted the IV, and he thanked her, slowly drifting back to sleep. The officer went back to his recliner, and the nurse left the room.

The sun brought the driver out of a very nice dream the next morning, as the nurse opened the shade. Nichols sat in the chair, a steaming cup of coffee next to him. Wincing, the driver said, "Wow, I think that my eyes need surgery too now, from the blazing trauma they just received."

Lightly laughing, the nurse said, "Sir, the doctor will be here shortly, so you need to be up and at least partly alert for him." Producing a syringe, she added another dose of medicine to his IV, then left. Nichols looked over at him and joked, "Woken up to be doped up, huh?"

Chuckling, the driver said, "Yeah, never had that before. Nice for a change." Hearing a knock at the door, he looked over as a little Asian man in a lab coat came in. "Yes, sir?"

"Hello, I'm Doctor Zhen," the man replied in a small Asian accent. "I'm going to be your surgeon. Just a few questions, and then I check out what's going on with your shoulder, then I go speak with my team." Asking questions on the injury, he looked at the driver's back and shoulder, mentally noting some things, then turned back to him. "OK. You rest today, we will get you scheduled in the morning for surgery. Eat what you can, but no food or drink after midnight." He turned to Nichols. "Officer, you have a partner outside looking for you."

Nichols excused himself, and went out the door. Zhen looked at the driver. "Do you need him tomorrow during surgery?" he asked.

"I've been told to have an escort during the whole stay, doc," the driver replied.

"Well," the doctor said, "He will have to wait outside the surgery room while we operate, but I don't see a problem with it." He turned to the door, as another officer entered the room. "Can I help you?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, sir," the officer replied. "I'm Sergeant Thompson. I'm replacing Officer Nichols as his guard."

"Ah, thank you for coming. Are you going to be here tomorrow for the surgery?" the doctor asked.

"Most probably," Thompson said. "I've been assigned to him as his special detail during the day shift."

"OK, I was just going over the details," the doctor said. "You can accompany him to the surgery room, but you have to wait outside while the operation is being done."

"No problem, doc," the sergeant replied. "Shouldn't be an issue. I'll keep you guys safe." He winked over at he driver. "Can't let you guys be caught unawares by these clowns and have them try something."

The driver looked at Thompson with concern. "Is there something that I should know about, officer?"

"Well," Thompson said, "We haven't caught them yet, and with all the publicity from the incident, we don't want them to try to think they can catch you here. Someone leaked that you were admitted, and we're trying to find out who that was, so until we catch them, you're under our care until we find them." He jerked his thumb up at the TV on the wall. "See for yourself."

The driver grabbed the remote, and turned the TV on. Immediately, the news showed a picture of his truck sitting in the middle of the weigh station, the driver window with shards of glass on the ground next to it. Yellow tape surrounded his truck, and officers were stationed outside the tape, warding off any onlookers. A small group had gathered, and several people had camera phone trying to get pictures. One man turned back to look at the camera, and the driver froze.

"Hey, that's the guy that drove the truck!" he shouted.

Thompson looked over at him. "You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah, his face is burned in my brain like forever," the driver replied. "I'd recognize that face anywhere."

"OK, let me get on the horn with the boss, and he'll call the news station for the footage. Now that we have a face, we can dial him in, and put out a warrant for him." He grabbed his cell phone, and dialed a number. "Hey boss, Thompson here. This driver at the hospital from the shooting incident just ID'd one of the assailants. Apparently, the little prick was in the crowd admiring his handiwork." He waited for a second, then nodded. "Sure thing, boss. I'll keep an eye out." He ended the call, and turned back to the driver.

"He said that we're going to call in the feds, since this guy did this more than once," Thompson said. "Apparently, they ID'd him in Missouri in a shooting incident there too."

"Yeah," the driver said, "I was a part of that situation too."

"Oh really?" Thompson asked.

"Yeah," the driver replied. "And it wasn't pretty there either. One dead, one injured. I never found out what happened to the other officer involved."

"From what I heard," Thompson said, "That guy pulled through. Gonna have a hell of a limp, but he's doing okay. Now that we know that the two incidents are related, we can contact Missouri and get them involved in case these guys wanna backtrack."

"I don't think that's what they're after," the driver said.

"Yeah, you're probably right," the sergeant said. "You just became our highest priority right now. Sit tight, we're gonna make sure you're safe now. You're probably gonna get more company than you can handle sooner than you think."

"Great," the driver groaned. "More questions."

The nurse walked in, and asked him, "How are you feeling?"

"Right now, I'm in a bit of pain. Can you help me?" he asked.

"Sure thing, hon," she said, as she pulled the magic feel good needle from her pocket.

He smiled. "You already read my mind, darlin'," he said as she attached it to his IV line.

Pulling some saline from the bag, the filled the syringe, then slowly pushed it into his veins. A couple minutes later, she disconnected the empty tube, and threw it in the needle container. "I'm getting ready to leave, but I'll be back tonight to check on you again. Be a good boy for my replacement, okay?" she smiled.

"Yes, ma'am." he replied, as she left. Turning back to Thompson, he said, "How long before the goon squad shows up?"

"I'm surprised they're not here already," he replied, looking at the door. "Given the situation, I'd figure they won't be more than 15 minutes away."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, and an older gentleman in a suit came in. Thompson looked over at him, hand next to his sidearm. "Who are you?" he barked.

"Agent Stillman, FBI," the man said, producing a badge from his pocket. Immediately, Thompson relaxed, and returned his hand to his pocket. "Touchy bugger, isn't he?" Stillman asked the driver, thumbing at Thompson.

"I'd say he has a reason to," the driver quipped. "After what's been going on, I'm just as jumpy as he is. I just don't have a gun like he does though."

"Well, let's see what we can do about that," Stillman said. "Need to get you cleared, but I don't see any reason for that not to happen. We've checked you out already, and I'm not surprised you're still going." He pulled open a file he had in his hand. "Says here you served in the Army, sharpshooter qualification in pistol and expert in rifle. Served overseas, but not in a war zone. How is that possible these days?" he asked. He turned back to the file. "Honorably discharged, went into trucking." He looked at the driver. "Why?"

"It's almost like the military, sir," the driver replied. "The money is decent, the scenery changes, and every once in a while, I get to haul explosives." He grinned at the agent. "Also, if anything happens, you know which way it rolls."

"Yeah, downhill," the agent said, "just like at the FBI." He turned to Thompson. "How long are you here for, and who's the night watch?"

"I'm here until 8, then Officer Nichols comes in, and pulls the night shift." He looked at the agent. "I've checked him, he's good people."

"Okay, we'll set up an agent downstairs, and one at the elevator," Stillman said. "I've got a bunch of people trying to track down this clown at our field office in Chicago. Homeland and NSA are joining in, trying to see who he is, and how many there are."

"I can help you with that somewhat," the driver said. Stillman looked at him and said, "Good, we need all the help we can to track him.I'll get someone up here to get the details. Have you ate yet?"

"No," the driver said. "Was just about to call the new nurse." He reached down for the button, but Stillman stopped him. "Don't," he warned. "We'll get some real food to bring up, not this hospital crap. This stuff will turn your liver colors that belong on a paint store shelf." He produced a cell, and speed dialed a number. "Hey, this is Stillman. We need some real food at this location. And none of that frilly fruity stuff. Just keep it kinda healthy." He gave the hospital location, then hung up. "They'll be here in like 45 minutes with the good stuff. Just hang tight."

"But, I still need to get my medication," the driver said.

"OK," said Stillman, "but nothing other than necessary hospital stuff from them. Have you met this nurse yet?"

"No, not yet," the driver replied.

"Then it's time to meet them." He pushed the call button and waited for the nurse to answer.

"Can I help you?" a female voice came on the line.

"Yes, your patient is due for his medication, ma'am," Stillman replied.

"I'll be there in a moment, sir," she said, and disconnected.