I got patched up at the hospital; they gave me some blood and took some x-rays. The x-rays came back and it was clear that I had gotten my ass kicked, that some ribs were cracked but nothing was seriously messed up. The gunshot was a flesh wound, and though it stung like a bastard, it wasn’t going to cause any permanent problems.
I spent about three hours telling various detectives and FBI agents what had happened. They wrote it all down and each and every one of them told me that I had acted inappropriately and could’ve been killed. I thanked them for the advice.
Toward the end of their questioning, around three in the morning, Kelley came in with Al. He lifted Al onto the bed and this man’s best friend proceeded to lap my face. Kelley had a hint of a smile going.
“Duff, you’re fuckin’ nuts,” Kelley said.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“All right, how’s this? The FBI just confiscated a dirty bomb from Clogger’s plane. It was large enough to kill thousands and render Yankee Stadium and the surrounding area uninhabitable for decades.”
“What happened to Gabbibb?” I asked.
“He went with the FBI Homeland Security guys. They’re trying to figure if he was with the other hospital employees or if he acted independently. How’s this for weird? When they were putting him in the car and taking him away, in between all his DAT, DAT shit, he was cursing about the Yankees.”
“You don’t think this was all about destroying the Yankees and the stadium?”
“Hey-you ever been to Fenway? You know what those assholes are like. Anyway, the FBI will look into everything and we may never know.”
“Are you going to be in any trouble?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. Even cops sometimes realize there are things more important than procedures sometimes. I’ve got some other good news.”
“What’s that?” I said.
“The DA says they don’t plan to charge you in Dunston’s death or me in Tyrone’s.”
“Holy shit, I forgot about that. What’s it say when you forgot that you killed a man?”
“That the piece-of-shit that you killed wasn’t worth giving any thought,” Kelley said.
I didn’t say anything and the room got quiet. Kelley and I were a lot alike and a lot different. I killed a man tonight, and I wasn’t convinced that killing a man like Dunston was wrong, but I also wasn’t convinced that killing him was my job.
“What was the deal with those Homeland Security guys? Are they regular FBI?” I asked.
“Way I understand it-yes and no. I know they don’t have many rules to follow,” Kelley said.
“Yeah, that’s for sure. I gotta tell you the blond guy froze when I went after Singh. I attacked his partner and he couldn’t shoot.”
“Says a lot about security, doesn’t it?”
The nurse came in and told me that my vitals were good, that they thought I was dehydrated and my blood count or something was approaching normal. They also told Kelley he’d have to leave and that the dog wasn’t allowed. The nurse moved on to the next room.
“No dogs? That seals it. I’m out of here. Give me a ride to AJ’s,” I said.
“I know better than to say ‘no’ to you,” Kelley said.
The nurses at the desk threw a bit of a fit and they made me sign a bunch of forms, but they knew they couldn’t keep me. I was moving a bit slow and so was Al, but we were moving and we were moving right out of the hospital door.
We pulled in front of AJ’s at ten of four, which meant we supposedly had ten minutes to drink. I wasn’t worried. Kelley went in first, followed by Al and myself. The Foursome were all still there and they were in rare form.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the superhero trio-the Mick, the Mick-Polack, and the world’s bravest canine!” Rocco announced. He then led the Foursome in a standing, albeit wobbly, ovation.
“AJ, set them up on me,” TC shouted, raising his B amp;B to our presence.
“Nah, TC, this one’s on me,” AJ said.
“Holy shit-this must be an occasion,” Jerry Number One said. “AJ’s buying!”
“Fuck you.” AJ poured shots of Jameson for everyone. “Here’s to ’em. I’m proud to be your friend,” AJ toasted.
They all yelled “hear, hear” and threw the shots back. Unfortunately, TC tipped over with the motion of throwing the shot down. He was down on all fours when Al ran over and licked him on the lips.
“Ahhh…” TC screamed. “I’m goin’ to get AIDS.”
Rocco helped TC to his feet and steadied him on his barstool.
“That dog’s a hero. Don’t be saying anything bad about him,” Jerry Number Two said.
“That’s right,” Rocco said. “Let me buy that bastard a cheeseburger.”
It went on like that for a few hours. By six in the morning, everyone was filing out, shading their eyes from the sun’s light. Kelley drove me to the Moody Blue and made sure Al and I were going to be all right. I figured I’d sleep for a week.
“You guys goin’ to be okay?” Kelley asked at the door.
“Yeah, until Monday.”
“What happens on Monday?”
“I just remembered, I get fired. Monday is a month since my extra-special written warning, and they’re charging me with looking at porn on my computer.”
“Aw man, Duff. You and Rudy losing your jobs, and on the same day, no less.”
“What are you talking about? Did Rudy hear something?”
“I’m sorry, Duff. I thought you knew. According to Rocco, he was in AJ’s yesterday afternoon, bombed out of his mind, saying he had to go in front of the administrator and the board on Monday.”
“Shit, that ain’t right.”
“Duff, I heard it was awful. Rudy was carrying on, they had to get him a cab and help him in it. He was crying so hard, it was pitiful.”
“We’re going to have to do something,” I said.
“Duff, you’ve done enough saving for a while. You need to rest and let some things go.”
“Not this, Kel. Not Rudy.”
I said good night to Kelley and Al and I got into bed. I was exhausted and everything hurt. Tomorrow was Sunday and I had a day to help Rudy out before I got my ass fired on Monday.