Final Notice, page 27
Before leaving the backyard, he practiced reaching for the gun a few times and then began walking to the area where he and Miles had been attacked. He stopped as he got close and stood still, listening closely for any sounds. A car passed and he turned back, walking normally, until it was out of sight, and then he returned. Hearing nothing, he took a few more steps. It was very dark, and he was reluctant to leave the sidewalk and enter the brushy area.
After listening a bit more and hearing nothing, he pulled out his cell phone and switched on the flashlight with his left hand while unholstering his gun and turning off the safety with his right. Carefully trying to avoid sticks, he walked back into the darkness, swinging his phone from left to right, but there was nothing but a fallen log in the small clearing. He returned to the sidewalk, switched off the light, switched on the safety and returned the gun to his holster.
He returned home, finding Miles curled up at the back door, and they both went in for the night. He hid the gun until he could put it back into the vault without Trudi knowing.
***
CHAPTER 30 – MORE CONSEQUENCES
Quincy, Massachusetts. Matt had been keeping Maria in the loop with developments related to the McAdam shooting. As the case was very much under investigation, there wasn’t much information other than a few ongoing stories about the slain Senators and much wider coverage about McAdam. One reporter managed to get McAdam to state that the three Senators threatened to blackmail him with wildly distorted claims of events that were easy to shout but impossible to prove. They were equally difficult to disprove, since there was no substance or factual information to discredit. And he stood by his positions that major change was required to fix what ailed the government, adding that the three dead Senators represented the worst faults, but they were by no means the only ones. As agreed with his lawyer, he never confessed to killing them and either ignored or deflected any questions asking for outright admission of guilt. The public wanted to believe in his innocence – at least in the bandied-about theories of “self-defense” – and his political approval rating grew, making it very difficult for his colleagues to attack him. As experts in the value of public opinion, they either were supportive or chose to keep a low profile.
A few days after Maria’s call to Matt, he returned the call and, as promised, named the time and place to meet: 7:00 PM at Cagney’s on Washington Street.
She agreed and met Matt at the popular pub. He had identified McAdam’s doctor from a story where he was quoted with respect to McAdam’s mental state. Using his skills at assumptive interrogation, he had called, identifying himself as Matt Harper from The Boston Globe, who had been working with VitalTech and the launch of their VT2 watch. He had simply asked, “Do you believe that Senator McAdam was at all influenced by receiving the Final Notice on his VT2?” Dr. Turner’s response had been, “I’m not at liberty to discuss privileged doctor-patient confidences. However, I’ve known the Senator for many years, and I’d be surprised that even that information, if he received it, would be a catalyst for murder.”
Maria had to admire Matt’s approach. He hadn’t lied but his confidence in what he was asking had gotten the doctor to tacitly reaffirm his assumption. She asked, “So are you ready to go public?”
“I am. I actually spoke with McAdam. He wasn’t easy to gain access to, but I found a way.”
That made Maria smile and say, “Surprise, surprise.”
Matt smiled and continued, “After a series of questions about his positions, I hit him with, ‘Were your actions regarding the three dead senators influenced at all by your health concerns?’ ”
“Wow! How did he answer that?”
“ ‘No comment,’ preceded by the telltale, but not convicting, three seconds of hesitation. I tried to push but that question shut him down.”
“I guess, given his refusal to admit that he killed them, he wants, or his lawyer wants him, to steer clear of even oblique pieces of evidence.”
Matt hadn’t written his story yet and wanted to get Maria’s input and a VT2 beta test update first. She told him that it was all going very well. She realized, too, that based on Matt’s research, she believed that the VT2’s involvement would remain highly speculative because of the lack of substantiation from McAdam. This was the first time that a user committing a crime, assuming McAdam did, was still alive. And unless he came out and said he killed the three senators because he had nothing to lose (and that would be very unlikely), the VT2’s involvement would remain a theory. McAdam would be dead before a trial could begin, and therefore would retain his innocence.
They discussed this and Matt confessed that it was one of the reasons he wanted to meet with her. He suggested that he could write something that would ask the question about the VT2’s influence but it could never really be answered. He was uncertain if that was a story or not. Maria, on the other hand, her memory fresh from what the earlier stories did for the watch’s demand, was bullish about a story, even hinting about it. It would help to rekindle the interest that the earlier stories did. Matt said that he would draft something and run it by her. She smiled and asked, “You said this was one of the reasons you wanted to meet. Were there others?”
He smiled and in a brighter room his blushing would have been more obvious. “Ahh, yes. Uhh, I wanted to see you again.”
Matt’s story and the additional follow-up coverage in other publications across the nation had the desired effect that Maria wanted – maintaining interest and building up stronger demand that, hopefully, could be sustained for the commercial launch:
DID A WATCH KILL THREE SENATORS?
Boston, MA. A short time ago it was announced that a new sport watch/health monitor known as the VT2 was in its final test phase before a national launch. The VT2 is unrivalled in many respects, but one feature of this device that is unique is its ability to predict the user’s death within 30 days. It is known that a small percentage of earlier test users had resorted to murder after receiving their Final Notice, as the feature is called.
The Boston Globe has learned from undisclosed sources that Senator John McAdam was wearing a VT2 and may have received his Final Notice just prior to the murders of three Republican Senators, murders which Senator McAdam is accused of. McAdam would not comment on this, nor would his physician, Dr. Angus Turner, violate the rules of doctor-patient confidentiality. But the doctor did say, speaking theoretically, that he didn’t think that any Notice, as shocking as it might be, would trigger an action of that nature in McAdam.
Still, the question remains. Was the watch the trigger? – Matt Harper, Boston Globe
***
Pasadena, California. Trudi returned from her doctor appointment. Dr. Krishnan, an oncologist, had used a new, less invasive biopsy procedure to take a tissue sample that could be examined in greater detail. Trudi was told that they would call later today or tomorrow with the results, and what next steps, if any, were necessary.
There was a note from Vince that he was walking Miles and there were two messages on their house phone. One was from Rasha asking Trudi to call her. The other from Barb, just saying, “We are all OK.” Trudi wondered, “What does that mean?” and tried Barb and Dave’s home number, getting a recording. Same with Dave’s cell. She tried Barb’s cell and she answered but there was a lot of talking noise in the background. Barb told her that there had been a shooting at the school where Dave taught and that he was OK, but the shooting was horrific. Ten or more dead. Barb said she couldn’t talk now but they would be home this evening.
As she hung up, visibly upset, Vince walked in and asked, “What’s going on?”
Trudi explained and Vince grabbed his laptop and typed in “Austin school shooting.” The only listing originated at KXAN News: “More than 10 dead in East Austin School Shooting. Police have arrested a suspect in today’s shooting at Birchwood Elementary School in East Austin, Texas. The suspect, who has not been identified, was apprehended by police as he tried to escape. An assault rifle and at least two other guns were seized. Sources at the school said that a guard, two teachers and at least seven students have been killed and a number of others wounded.”
Trudi called Rasha, who was very upset. The school administrator, Shirley Jackson, had called and told her that she was under pressure to dismiss Rasha because of complaints from some parents. One of the parents had confided to Ms. Jackson that her husband asked her to complain after receiving a call from the NRA, where he was a Ring of Freedom member. Ms. Jackson was trying to wait it out but if other parents came forward, the school Board may force her hand. She added that she was being muzzled and may also face more consequences for speaking out. Rasha asked for Trudi’s advice and she suggested that they go to see Ms. Jackson tomorrow. Rasha thankfully agreed.
Later that afternoon, Dr. Krishnan’s office called. They needed to see Trudi again.
At 5 o’clock they tried Barb and Dave at home and Dave answered. He sounded pretty normal at first but as he spoke about the shooting, it was evident that he was very shaken by the events. They were talking with him on their speakerphone and Vince asked him directly,
“Are you OK?”
Dave replied, “I’m fine. The bullet went through my leg and missed the bone.”
“What!!??” they both gasped.
“You were shot?” Trudi asked.
“Yes. Didn’t Barb tell you?”
“No! She said you were alright.”
“I am. I’ll be limping for a while but no permanent damage.”
They asked him to tell them what happened, and Dave gave them a comprehensive, and sadly, what’s become an old story: Gunman comes to the school and kills the guard first, then takes out any adults he encounters who may have guns, and then starts in on the kids. Dave was in the hallway near the entrance and was the second person shot, after the guard. Fortunately, the shot hit him with such force that he went down fast, making the killer think he was dead, or at least unable to intervene. He was able to call 911 as soon as the killer went around the corner. He sobbed as he told them that nine students were dead and then said something they couldn’t quite hear. When they asked him to repeat it, he said that his school Administrator had told them not to make any public statements disparaging the NRA. They could hear Barb say, “That’s not my view!”
Trudi told them about Rasha and her situation, and they were sympathetic but said the NRA was a law unto itself and it wielded too much power. Trudi and Vince asked if they needed any help, but Dave told them that the wound was so clean ... the bullet missed anything important ... and he really only had a slight limp. If that changed, he’d let them know.
That evening, in what had become all too routine, Trudi and Vince watched the CNN coverage of the Austin shooting. They suddenly sat bolt upright when the local reporter introduced Dave Fuller, a teacher at Birchwood Elementary, who had been shot at the outset of the incident. Both Trudi and Vince beamed seeing their son but realized how different the story could have been. The reporter ended his interview with Dave by asking, “Do you agree with the NRA that arming guards is not good enough and that arming teachers is essential?”
Dave hesitated a second or two and said, “I’ve been told not to say anything against the NRA, but I will say that if I had been carrying a gun, it would not have helped me today. And I will add that carrying a gun and being a trained anti-terrorist soldier are two very different things; and unless we train our teachers the way we train our military, armed teachers will create more problems than they solve. But that is simply my opinion.”
The reporter tried to get Dave to say more but he simply said, “No further comments.” Although Trudi and Vince were definitely up for the ‘Proudest Parents’ award, Vince’s questionable mortality weighed heavily. All he could think about was revenge.
Trudi was also being smothered in bad news and went up to take a shower, to wash away the remnants of physical and mental debris from her biopsy.
While Trudi was in the shower, Vince once again opened the biometric gun case and removed the Glock. He then rummaged with his hand to the back of the drawer in the bureau and retrieved his holster. He slipped in the gun and the clip, and positioning them in the small of his back, he put on a lightweight windbreaker and waited for the shower to stop. When it did, he called in to Trudi that he was going out for a walk.
“I won’t take Miles, but I’ll let him out to do his business before I go.”
“OK, honey. I may be asleep when you get back.”
Vince let Miles out and stood there while the fuzzy little guy sniffed around for just the right place. He realized how much he would miss not being alive to see him, as tears welled up. Miles finished his business and Vince scratched him between his pointy ears and then let him inside this time. He might not be coming back. He closed the door and went for a walk.
He double-checked the gun to ensure there was a round in the chamber and the safety was on. He was resigned to the probability that he and Trudi would never get to take shooting lessons. He reached for the gun a few times and began walking, no destination in mind, but he started by strolling past the area where he and Miles were attacked. As he approached the area he froze in his tracks, thinking that he heard voices. It seemed like minutes, but the voices started again. He walked a few steps closer and listened, keeping on the sidewalk. It was two men, and their voices, if not definitely recognizable as the two from that night, were very possibly the same. He took another couple of steps and could see that there was a flickering light, possibly a campfire, shining through the bushes. He could just about make out the path to the back of the brushy area but was concerned that they might hear him approaching. He unholstered his gun and turned off the safety.
Coming up the street was an old truck, loud enough to mask the sound of his approach, and as it got closer, he carefully stepped off the sidewalk onto the path. He took another step and then another and he could see two men, who could be his guys, sitting on what looked like a log, smoking something. They passed it back and forth. His eyes grew accustomed to the dark and the little fire was good enough to see that they were passing a glass pipe-like thing back and forth between them. Drugs? He couldn’t see the dog but knew from their previous encounter that it might attack and braced himself to shoot in self-defense.
Taking a deep breath, he charged into the small clearing and faced the two guys across the flickering fire, aiming the gun at them. The guy holding the pipe dropped it behind them. In a voice as menacing as possible, Vince demanded, “Where’s Rambo?”
The one with the baseball cap said, “He’s dead. Who are you?”
“I’m the guy that Rambo bit after he almost killed my dog. And now I have rabies and will probably die, so I thought it only fair that you two join me.”
“Hey man. We didn’t tell him to do that. He was acting all weird and we was both getting ’fraid of him, too. He tangled with a skunk and stunk real bad but we’ve had him since he was a pup, so we put up with it. But he started getting weird. Growling and snapping at us. ’Bout two days after that, after he bit you and your dog, he tried attacking us, but he couldn’t even stand up good and then he dropped dead.”
Vince was not a killer and he believed their story. He tried to stay angry at them, if for no other reason than to keep the upper hand. “Let me tell you something else. That foreign guy you swore at that night has been through more suffering than either of you could imagine. He survived bombings and shootings in his country and after years of being a refugee, he was admitted into this country. He works hard at a job that he didn’t take from either of you. He pays taxes and he makes a contribution to this community and country, which is a whole lot more than either of you do.”
Vince took a few steps backward to put some more space between him and them, while still pointing the gun at them, and with his free hand, pulled out his phone and swiped up the camera app. He quickly took their picture a couple of times. “I’m not going to kill you tonight, in case my rabies shots work, but tomorrow, I’m going to bring these pictures to all the police in this area. So, you have less than a day to get as far from here as you can. And never come back. Because I will also show these pictures to my friends, and if any of them see you, someone will come looking for you, and they will not be as understanding as I am. Is that understood?”
They both nodded profusely and said yes.
Vince told them to get up and, still pointing the gun at them, marched them to the sidewalk and motioned for them to start walking in the opposite direction of his way home. He watched them until they were out of sight, switched the safety back on, and re-holstered his gun. He was shaking as if it were 20 below.
He walked aimlessly for a bit thinking about what had just happened. Those two guys were responsible for his rabies and impending death. He had a gun so why didn’t he use it? And he knew the answer. He had succumbed to the notion of fear, of powerlessness, and of the idea that a gun was the answer. That was why a million seniors had answered the call: The call to arms by the NRA and their puppets in Washington and state legislators across the country.
