The State Troopers closed off a section of the interstate for the helicopter. Turnover was quick and simple. Veronica did all the talking.
“This man is a US military prisoner being transported to his trial for attempted murder of a female marine to cover up other crimes. He attempted to escape. It took four of us to stop him. He was attempting suicide by cop. We think he was on something to shrug off some of his debilitating injuries. We got him re-secured and he seems to be unconscious from his wounds. I would recommend keeping him chemically restrained in flight, just in case. He’s too big to **** with in the bird. There should be Federal Marshalls at Salt Lake to deal with the custody issue while he is there. What questions do you have for me?”
The Paramedic was shaking his head before she was halfway through her explanation.
“Anyone else hurt in the melee?”
“No, that’s what took so long. We didn’t want to get ourselves hurt for this dumbass. Bangs and bruises. We will swing by the clinic on base if we need anything.”
By this time, Frickel was strapped to a long spine board, bundled up with all the C-Spine protocol gear, an IV running fluids and drugs and waiting for the medic to finish with Veronica.
Once the van door closed, Veronica picked up the recorder from the dash and turned it off.
“Well, that could have gone horribly wrong. Did you get hurt?” Veronica’s voice was full of concern for her best and oldest friend.
“Not hurt. Sore, stiff, worn out, but no, not hurt. Damn! He was quick! I had to work my ass off to make sure he didn’t get a hold of me! Let’s not do this again! Tool of Providence I can accept but I don’t want to do it all the time! Dad owes me big time!”
“Not Paige?”
“Veronica, that girl never had a chance. The best thing was her hitting the floor limp. It short-circuited his attack routine. You would have had to shoot him early and often. Paige would have been a toy poodle against a pit bull.” Violet was shaking her head to hide the delayed energy dump and fatigue she refused to show while Frickel was in the van. She was absolutely worn out.
“Well with him attacking you, you will have to stick around for the paperwork, interviews by the prosecution and the defense and so on and so forth.”
“I’m sure that will make my unit just thrilled.” The sarcasm dripped from her tone.
“Well they could have said no. Besides, I’m sure everything just went on hold with the 100% commitment to the west coast recovery. You weren’t teaching this month anyway. Better to be out here screwing off and hanging out than twiddling your thumbs there. Since you dumped Randal, you don’t have to worry about being away from him. You could come stay at the house with me. The spare bedroom is still set up like it was for your last visit.”
“Won’t Tim object to me there for the month this will probably take?”
“I don’t give a shit what he thinks. Besides, he extended for another year in DC, without telling me. He screwed me out of that position with the Counter-terrorism unit at Lackland. All so he could push his own career. I think this was the final straw. I’m seriously considering telling him to not come back. Ever.”
“Sounds like you mean it this time. Steak and eggs at Jeremiah's and we talk?”
As they drove and talked, they forgot until later the Body-cam was still on.
