Under Siege (69 page)

“I’ll go home afterward, Ms. Lewis, and pour myself a stiff drink and give thanks that God created the jury system.”

“But what if the jury won’t convict Aldana?”

“Judith, you have got to believe in your fellow man or you’ll have no hope at all. If the ordinary men and women on the jury won’t convict him, why try to get him off the streets? If they won’t convict him, they deserve him.”

She kept brushing at the coat.

“You made a fine little speech in my office a few weeks ago, Judith. Something about the law existing to protect those who can’t protect themselves. And here they are.” He gestured toward the school building. “I thought you meant it.” She ran her hand through her hair. She grimaced. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office,” he said. “Or the next morning. Whenever you can get there.” She kept brushing at her coat.

“Oh, and you and I have a new client. Guy name of Tom Shannon. A pro bono case.”

“Shannon? Isn’t he the man who led the lynch mob to the armory, the Scapegoat they want to hang?”

,ment’s the man,” Liarakos agreed. “You and he have a in common. He also says he knows the difference and evil.” and walked toward the door to the school and it, leaving Judith Lewis in the middle of the and staring after him, flipping at her coat hem

“God.damn you,” she whispered. “God damn you,” And she began to cry. She had thought she was out of it. And now this! The principal and the school officials-when they hired her she ised to stay. They were going to think her such a prom terrible liar. She went over to the bench against the wall and tried to compose herself.

Well, tomorrow was impossible. She would call the school officials this afternoon, but she should give them at least one more day so that they could find someone else. She used the hem of her skirt to wipe the tears from her eyes.

The doctor had a breezy manner. He radiated confidence d self-assurance. Apparently he had picked up the patois an in Patient Relations 101.

“You’re going to be fine. Every third day we’ll change the dressing and inch the drain out. But I think you’re well enough to go home.”

Harrison Ronald Ford nodded and swung his feet back and forth as the doctor examined the surgical incisions in his back. He was perched on the side of the bed, which was too far above the floor for his feet to comfortably reach. Normally the nurse had a little stool placed just so. “Hold still please.”

Harrison obeyed. Since the doctor couldn’t see his face, he grinned.

“Yes indeedy. Looking very fine. Gonna be a dilly of a scar, but maybe you can get a big tattoo back here and no one will notice. I have a rather extraordinary picture of a

woman on a stallion I can let you look at if you want nsider classical artwork.”

ig tits?”

“Melons.”

“Bring it irl”

“Now if you have any trouble at all, you call me. Any time, day or night. And the people downstairs want you to continue in physical therapy every day. Make those appointments before you leave this afternoon.” ‘Sure.

The doctor came around to face him. “The nurse will be in in a moment to put a new bandage on you. I just wanted to check you one last time and shake your hand.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

They took him in a wheelchair to the administration office to finish the paperwork. The administrator asked for his address and telephone number and he gave them the apartment he had used as Sammy Z. “We’ll see you tomorrow at ten in the morning.”

“Sure.” The doctor popped in and Harrison shook hands all around, one more time.

At his request they called him a taxi. It was waiting out front when he scribbled his name for the final time. With the nurse holding grimly to his elbow, he maneuvered himself out of the wheelchair and into the backseat. She supervised the cabbie as he placed the two bags that Freddy Murray had brought up from Quantico in the trunk. Harrison waved at her as the cabbie put the car into motion.

She gave him a distracted smile and charged back inside pushing the wheelchair. “Where to, Mac?”

“National Airport.”

“What airline?”

“Oh, I dunno. Don’t have reservations yet.”

“Well, you won’t have no problem. Holiday rush is all over. Where you heading?”

“Evansville, Indiana.”

“Go through Chicago or Cleveland?”

of those.”

US Air.”

on Ronald sat back and watched the cars gliding under the winter sky. He had been in Washington, t? Almost eleven months. Seemed like forever.

ie cab driver whistled for a redcap to handle the bags

Harrison gave him a two-dollar tip. The driver was

He had no trouble getting a ticket on the next plane,

which was scheduled to leave in an hour.

at Harrison Ronald strolled to the boarding area and sat

watching the businessmen and mothers with children. The

men in suits were reading or writing reports, darting over to

the pay phones and making credit card calls. The kids were

hollering and scurrying about and demanding their mother’s attention. He sighed. It was so normal-so … almost

like another world after all the stuff he had been through these last few months. He shook his head in wonder. Life

does indeed go on.

Amazingly enough the airplane actually left on time.

Most of the seats were empty. Harrison Ronald moved from

his aisle seat to the window and took his last look at

Washington as it fell away below.

It was over then. Really an truly over. o more terror,

no more waiting for the ax to fall no more sleepless nights

wondering what Freeman Mcationally was hearing and thinking tilde . Over.

What would he do now? He had been avoiding the issue

but he examined it now as Washington slipped behind and

the Alleghenies came into view like fibs. The Corps-maybe. After he was healed up completely.

He would go find a doctor to do all the therapy and bandage changing and drain pulling that the folks in Washington

were worried about. Or perhaps he should go back to the

cops. Maybe that. He would have to think about it some

more. But now he felt so good, almost euphoric. It was hard

to envision himself back on the street dealing with the

would-be Freeman Mcationallys, all the lazy losers who thought

that everyone should hold still while they carved off a chunk without earning it.

He was tired so he reclined the seat and closed his eyes. The important thing was that he was going back to the front porch. Spring would come eventually, then the summer with its muggy heat. He would sit in the swing and watch his grandmother string beans and shuck corn for canning. Maybe go to the ballpark on hot summer evenings. Paint the house for her-that was what he would do. He thought about the paint, the smell of it with the heat on his back. It would be very good. And there would be plenty of time-a’l the time he would ever need. With these images in his mind he dozed off.

He awoke on the descent into Chicago. The plane to Evansville was a four-engine turboprop which entered the clouds as it left O’Hare and stayed in them until it was on final approach into the Evansville airport. Harrison was glued to the window looking at the Ohio River looping by the downtown and the streets and neighborhoods all neatly, perfectly square. He saw the high school he had graduated from and he saw the minor league ballpark where he had sold hot dogs all those summers growing up.

He took a cab from the airport.

The little house looked exactly the same. The swing was put away for the winter and the leaves were bare, but the grass had been mowed just before the cold stopped all growth. The house still needed painting. And the soffit under the eaves-he would fix those rotten places too.

The doctor had told him not to lift anything, so he had the cabbie put the bags on the porch. Then he tried the door. Unlocked. He stepped in. “Grandmom! It’s me, Harrison.”

“Who?”

Her voice came floating down the hallway from the kitchen.

He walked that way. He saw her before he got to the kitchen door. She was old and small and her hair was white.

too quickly anymore, but he thought he a more beautiful woman.

What a wonderful surprise! You’re

more. I’m home.” gently in his arms.

A FIIGHT PM THL” HEART OF AMERI

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University in 1968 with a degree in political science and a commission in the Navy. He spent nine years on active duty and, during the Vietnam War, flew carrier-based A-6 Intruder bombers from the deck of USS Enterprise. All four of Mr. Coonts’ novelsFlight of the Intruder, Final Flight, The Minotaur, and Under Siege-have been major New York Times bestsellers. His latest novel, The Red Horseman, will be published in June 1993 by Pocket Books. A former attorney, Mr. Coonts resides in Boulder, Colorado.