It Aint Paranoia If Pt 02 Ch 03

No sex involving under 18. This chapter is a hard R for violence, not sex.

From the end of Part 2.2: He stood, beckoned me to bend down, and quietly said, "Daddy, those men hurt mommy bad! She cried and cried when they brought her back, and she could barely stand up or sit down!

"Once, they drug me and Grace to a room where mommy was tied to a bed and they started slapping and hitting us with fists! They told her if she didn't cooperate they would beat us to death. She screamed at them, and they drug us away.

"We tried to fight back and get away, but they hit me in the head so hard I saw stars. They drug us back to the jail, stripped all our clothes off, and took them. Later they brought us the short pants we were wearing, but they wouldn't give us a shirt. We got really cold and shivered all night!

"When mommy came back she was wearing that little dress you saw; she held us and we all cried. They did stuff to her several times every day until yesterday, then they left her alone.

"You have to help her!"

"I'm going to, son. We're flying to see some of the best doctors in Texas, but right now we need to let the pilot take off so we can get going in that direction, okay?"

He looked and acted far older than he did a week ago before this began, and my heart hardened even more toward those responsible.

He quickly took his seat; I wrapped Kaitlyn in my arms as soon as I sat down. She was stiff and unresponsive, but didn't resist. Her lip was quivering, and her right eye had a twitch. Claude was right -- she was very near collapse, physically, mentally, and emotionally. This was going to be a long plane ride, and the next several months would be worse.

When we were in the air, I looked at Grace and Dos, who were turned in their seats watching me and their mom; they were somber, but unwavering. I smiled at them to provide some assurance things would be okay, and wondered if we won the battle and lost the war.

The damages were still to be determined.

****

Eva was sitting in the seat behind me. She leaned around and whispered, "I believe she has internal injuries, but much of her pain is due to the bruising from the beatings she received before she learned to obey the bastards. She'd still be fighting them, or dead, if they hadn't started beating Logan and Grace to force her to comply.

"I'm a doctor who has sworn the Hippocratic Oath, but I feel no guilt about my part in what happened to them. There was not one redeemable soul in that group! They enslaved, murdered, tortured, and raped too many to count, and I'm certain that Morales and the one you call Popović are boiling in Satan's oil right now!"

Kaitlyn looked pale and her breathing was labored, but her head lay on my chest with her eyes closed. Maybe we should have gone to one of the closer hospitals in Alpine, or even Midland, but I wanted the finest medical care and support she and the children could get, and the world-class care available in San Antonio was only an hour away by air.

Kaitlyn's physical injuries were possibly life threatening and needed immediate attention, but the psychological and emotional damages suffered by all of them were potentially life destroying.

We might be in Houston next, but I know the quality of care available in San Antonio, and I know the doctor I want in charge of their diagnosis and treatment.

He promised to be waiting when we got to the Methodist ER in Boerne. He would conduct an evaluation there, and then decide what and where.

Off to our left I could see IH 10 and the towns of Ingram and Kerrville, situated along the Guadalupe River. We had passed over Junction earlier. Comfort was next, and then we would be landing in Boerne, which is just outside the 505 square-mile sprawl of San Antonio, the seventh most populous city in the US.

We were only a few minutes out, so I called Dr. Ramos. He assured me they were ready, and warned me that word had gotten out that my family had been rescued and they were being taken to San Antonio. The news media was teeming in the medical center, so he wanted to avoid taking anyone there unless necessary.

He didn't say it, but that meant the feds would be waiting there; I was glad we had diverted to Boerne, at his request.

Our cover story being their recovery by mercenaries seeking the $6 million reward was meant to placate a willing audience, not hold up to intense scrutiny. Sure, we had left misleading evidence and conformational data around the darker parts of the web, but only our good friends at La Kiva were willing and able to account for our physical whereabouts over the past four days.

It was unlikely that our story and their testimony would fool a committed group of FBI agents, much less convince the US and Mexican state departments that I was blameless. They had failed to lift a finger to help, but would now be eager to allege my direct or conspiratorial involvement in any number of crimes committed in Mexico during the rescue.

It was time to call my good friends in DC, or it would be, after Kaitlyn and the others were in the examination rooms. I needed to leverage political support to blunt the investigations, or I might be forced to tell the truth and blame it on the failure of the two governments to effectively intervene to save my (ex)wife and children.

That might play well to the media and their audiences, but it might also earn me extradition to Mexico for trial.

If they were really angry or feigning anger about this excursion, how will they feel when officials and elites from the two countries, and Russian mobsters, started dying? The dogs of war had been set loose by those they would now bite, but, privileged by their positions and power, they and others of their ilk would attempt to protect their comrades and themselves.

What would happen when those directly responsible started dying? Would the interveners take cover, or join the battle?

I was fighting to protect myself and those I love from death or a fate even worse; they were fighting to continue enjoying their usurped privileges and ill-gotten wealth. I was convinced my motivation was stronger, but I knew they would lash out when cornered. Were they as ruthless as I was willing to be? They had been to this point, but what would happen when the crosshairs were trained on them?

The wheels set down with a small squawk and we taxied to the company hanger, which had been hardened to withstand attack. Esteban, Juan, Charlie, and five men I didn't know were scattered around in defensive positions. A van, two SUVs and a full-grown hardtop, slantback Hummer were lined up around the hanger, turned toward the open door.

All but Charlie were armed with ARs and handguns, and they had every door covered

As soon as she was helped from the plane, Kaitlyn was laid on and strapped to a stretcher-like contraction by Charlie, a degreed RN and former navy medic. He leaned over her, introduced himself, and spoke to her soothingly while she was carried to the van and the stretcher was affixed to the floor.

Charlie continued asking questions quietly while the side door slid shut; she was answering, and seemed to be calming under his care.

Juan directed Eva, Esmerelda, and Octavio to the Suburban; Logan, Grace, and I were directed to the Humvee. I helped them climb up into the second seat and then joined them. Our driver was Raul, and Esteban ws sitting in the passenger seat.

Raul put us in the rear position, behind the Suburban, the van, and the lead SUV; an old, jacked-up 4x4 Ford Excursion. I was surprised to see someone lying under the slantback behind us, watching the road to the rear and to the sides through gun slots. He had multiple rifles lying around him, and numerous magazines of ammo.

It's obvious that stealth isn't our priority; we pretty much look like the armed, armored convoy we are!

****

Dr. Mario Ramos, proud son of San Antonio with undergrad and MD degrees from Johns Hopkins, was literally waiting in the ER doors. He and Charlie were talking as they took Kaitlyn inside. A second doctor asked, "Which one of you is Rob Macgregor?"

I signaled, and he immediately asked, "Are the children and the other woman the freed hostages?"

I nodded, and he asked them to come inside with him. My kids looked at me with wide eyes; I encouraged them with words and a smile, and then Eva took over. She guided all four kids inside while speaking quietly with them about what would be happening. Grace glanced over her shoulder at me just before the doors closed, but she seemed calm enough.

Other members of Esteban's team were already in advantageous positions around and on top of the building; he distributed the other seven and told me to come back inside the idling Hummer to continue our conversation.

After assuring me that our security was 'solid', he wanted details about our incursion into Mexico, and information about our known and suspected enemies and their collaborators. Esteban is a very intelligent man -- Mensa, I'm told -- as well as inordinately well informed, and after an hour he had made several potential connections we hadn't.

I agreed with his plan to discuss those possible connections with Claude and Clay, and told him I was going to check on the patients.

Good timing: Mario was walking toward the entrance looking for me. "Your kids and Eva's have been examined and had blood drawn; we're doing CT scans on them next. Kaitlyn is getting an MRI to verify what Dr. Valdez and I suspect. We'll know soon enough, but if we're right, she will be moved to the surgical wing.

"Dr. Valdez has an excellent relationship with the four children, so she and Dr. Alaniz are overseeing their testing and care so I can focus on your wife."

Correcting him by saying 'my ex-wife' seemed trivial disrespectful, so I didn't. Instead, I vowed to stop correcting people about that situation, and to set about correcting that situation, sooner rather than later.

Nothing quite like losing someone to clarify their value to you.

I did ask him to clarify "Dr. Valdez." He looked surprised and replied, "Dr. Eva Valdez, whom you brought here. You know she's Stanford trained, don't you?"

"Yes, but I'd never heard her last name. So she has your respect, even though she's not Johns Hopkins?" I teased. He smiled and replied, "Stanford was my second choice by a hair, so..."

Dr. Ramos took me into the interior of the building, through several sets of doors he opened with his card, until we reached Radiology and Nuclear Medicine.

"Let's see what they found."

What they found wouldn't be fully interpreted for about 24 hours, but the radiologist had ordered an abdominal CT scan after the MRI. Those results were obvious to the doctors but gibberish to me. I did understand when Mario called the surgical center.

"Okay, Rob. Dr. Valdez' diagnosis was accurate. Mrs. MacGregor has a bruised spleen that is oozing blood but doesn't appear to have ruptured. She also has a lacerated kidney and three broken ribs. We need to address the spleen immediately to prevent infection and the formation of blood clots. The kidney should heal itself, but we'll need to watch it carefully. Thankfully, the ribs did not penetrate her lungs, so that recovery is about managing the pain, and time.

"I'm moving her to the surgical wing on the north side, where she will remain for several days after the surgery. Esteban told me he has the building well secured, so this should not be a problem. "

He started to turn, but instead focused his eyes on mine. "Mi amigo, I know you want to know more, and I'll tell you everything we find -- after her surgery. For right now, yes, she has been traumatized physically and psychologically, but her physical injuries are not as bad as I feared, nor as you fear.

"Had she not been beaten so badly on the back, thighs, and buttocks, her pain would be much less. Her vagina and anus have the expected trauma, but we will decide whether to intervene after closer examination.

"She did contract a strain of gonorrhea common in Mexico, but it is easily curable. Of course, we must wait 18-45 days for the HIV antigen test results, and another three months for the final results, but all the other tests were negative.

"Not the best case scenario, but certainly nowhere near the worst. Now, let me go get ready to assist with her surgery.

"Oh, and Dr. Valdez said to tell you she would take care of the children, so you should do what you need to do while everyone else is occupied."

I was escorted out of the maze by a med tech, who gave me directions to the ER parking area. Esteban was in the waiting room; he took me out to the Hummer, turned the jamming gear on, and updated me. Things were moving quickly; so quickly I needed to call Tom Yonkers immediately!

Esteban fired up the gear and I called the number I had been given; he answered on the third ring. "Give me a second; I need to get to a secure place."

A couple of minutes later, he said, "Damn, Rob, you stir up one shitstorm after another, don't you? Are you and yours okay?"

"Kaitlyn is in surgery and faces who knows how much counseling when she is physically healed, but we're hopeful. The kids are bruised and battered, but don't appear to be badly injured; their mental state is another matter.

"We freed another hostage and her two children, and they are also with us. She's a Stanford-trained medical doctor, and the doctors here say she's proven to be a good one. She and her kids have dual citizenship because she's a member of the Náhuatl tribe and her husband was an American. She burned all her bridges in Mexico on the way out, so she'll be staying in the US.

"Clay says they are all suffering from PTSS, and Eva - Dr. Galvez - agrees. Mario Ramos is overseeing their care -- I'm sure you remember him from back when.

"Now... I've got plenty of real enemies, the kind that still want me dead. How many of the loud mouth opportunistic kind do I have back east and down south of the border?"

"I'd probably need to see the 'real enemy' list to determine the overlap, but more than a few and less than a bunch. Some of the loud mouths back east are embarrassed that they were floundering around stepping on their own dicks while you were extricating the hostages, and most of the others are still embarrassed about the mess out west with the North Koreans and all.

"Down south, the bluster is that they had it under control and were about to go save the day when you illegally sent armed men into their sovereign nation and killed an unknown number of their citizens.

"They don't think you were actually a part of the raid, but believe you paid for it. General Lee and I believe differently. Who is correct?"

"Come on, General Yonkers -- do you guys really think a guy of my age and with my poor conditioning could walk a hundred miles across the arid Altiplano at night, much less fight cartel soldiers? I'm not a trained soldier; just a good old boy from Texas!"

"Yes, we do think that," he laughed, "and you'll have to tell us the whole story when we get together again. And congratulations on getting your family and friends back safely.

"Now, what can we do for you?"

That was a longer and less convivial conversation.

****

"Esteban, what's the plan while Kaitlyn is in the hospital and the kids aren't? Keeping two places secure is difficult, so where are we staying? Claude said you have a place."

"I don't," he replied with a chuckle, "you do! Remember that

ranchito

you bought two years ago at the confluence of Sister Creek and the Guadalupe River? It's got an old limestone block home built by German settlers back in the mid-1800s. How those guys moved and stacked those two-foot thick blocks I don't know, and you will be as amazed as I.

"We hardened the house, the storm cellar, and the barn up pretty good, and installed high tech gear in and around the property, just in case. Thanks for funding that, by the way. We've used it three times, and now you're the beneficiary. It ain't the Mountain Lair, but it ain't bad."

"How are things back east? Claude says he loves it when a plan falls in place, so we should start watching the news."

My frustration was emerging. "Back east in the swamplands there's a lot of chest beating and threatening going on, but my source says most of it is bluster. They sat and played with their peckers while we took action, and now they're embarrassed that someone else freed the hostages! Tough shit!

"F'n state department and DOJ need to get their collective heads out of their asses and do something about the boldness of criminals on our border and within the country instead of talking about it while letting politicians collect campaign contributions from their fronts!

"The 'War on Drugs' has been going on since Reagan, and all that's happened is the other side now has more money, more arms, and more influence than most of the governments south of us! When confronted with the kidnapping, the response from Washington was, 'We'll need to go through diplomatic channels on this!'

"Oh, absolutely! Let's let the bunch responsible for the growth of the cartels and beholden to them make the decision about what we do to save Americans snatched by the cartel! That will sure as fuck work! About as well as the War on Drugs!

Sigh. "Anyway, if the plan is falling in place, they will have more to be squawking about tomorrow -- if they are among the living!"

Kaitlyn's spleen surgery was successful, and they were pumping her full of some special antibiotic to address the infection that had gotten a foothold in the tiny puncture. Mario told me in no uncertain terms that she needed rest, and that all she was going to do for the next 48 hours was sleep. She was catheterized and would use a bedpan, but the ribs, the hematomas, and the contusions need rest to heal, as do the spleen and kidneys.

She needed sleep and they were ensuring she got it with drugs, so I was banished until I got a call telling me we could come see her.

Eva, Esmy, and Tavo would be staying with us, as would six members of the team. Esteban was staying at the hospital with the other five members of the team, so Charlie would be heading our group.

The old house was a feat of German architecture, and the setting was as beautiful as I had seen in Texas. The Cypress trees along the creek and river looked like they belonged in Oregon, and the clear, slowly moving waters of the Guadalupe were pristine and welcoming. There was even a tree swing over the deepest pool.

'Kaitlyn will love this place' was my first thought, but it was drowned out by the shrieks from the four kids at having found the most beautiful water park in the world! They wanted to go swimming and they wanted to do it now... even though it was nearly dark.

'Tomorrow' drew a chorus of groans, which faded when Charlie mentioned that we were eating supper at the BBQ joint just up the road toward Sisterdale. Esmy and Tavo weren't sure what barbeque was, so Grace and Logan gave them an enthusiastic endorsement with too many details about the meats and sides.

That a barbeque joint out here in the midst of nothing had a parking lot full of cars was its own endorsement, and they were right -- it was delicious!

We were stuffed and exhausted; no one lasted more than a few minutes after their bath, including me.

What an unbelievable day we'd had! Twenty-four hours ago I was making my way toward the ridge above the gang's 'fortress'; Eva and family were resting, preparing for the uprising; and Kaitlyn, Grace, and Logan were despairing in a dungeon!

With bellies full of barbeque and night prayers said, we succumbed to the exhaustion, safe in this old block home.

****

The coffee must have been made by one of the former Navy guys, because it would corrode a horseshoe! I like strong coffee and I usually drink it black with sweetener, but I added creamer to this, and joined the three men at the table on the porch. They pointed at my cup and made fun of me, but I was tranquil in the knowledge that my stomach lining wouldn't be destroyed as quickly.