Page 23 of Garr

“It’s so fucked up,” he said in a cracked voice. He was struggling to breathe, and the men stared at him with concern. Garrett looked at the tablet at the end of the bed and perused through the information. Looking up at his teammates, he shook his head.

“Buzz,” started Leif.

“I know. I’m not going to live. I asked them to patch me up just so I could speak with you.” He struggled to get air, and they realized he was telling the truth. The bullets, one hitting his lung, the other his heart, were still in place, unable to be removed. The internal blood loss was excessive, and the damage irreparable.

“Buzz, what happened, brother?” asked Garr.

“It’s all so fucked, man.” He was wheezing, the sound of air coming from places it shouldn’t. His machines were starting to make strange noises. “He wants to cause chaos.”

“Who, man? Who wants to cause chaos? Why?” asked Leif.

“Brockman.”

“Colonel Brockman? Buzz, are you sure? He’s up for a slot on the national defense committee,” said Garr. He nodded, unable to get the words out.

“H-he shot me. He’s behind this. Wants to create division in the country on guns and gun control.”

“Why? That doesn’t help any mission,” said Garr.

“Own. He owns huge shares… Huge shares in gun manufacturers.”

“Which ones?” asked Garrett. Buzz wheezed in and out, his eyes got wide, and he tried to move his hand.

“All of them.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“You know I would do anything for you, Matthew,” said Grip. “But why me? What happens if I go off this property?”

“Nothing, son. You can walk right back onto the property. All I need for you to do is make sure this family is okay. Check in on them.”

“What’s their story?” asked Grip suspiciously.

“It’s four children and their uncle. He’s a young man, only thirty-six, and the children are twelve, fourteen, seventeen, and nineteen. His sister and her husband were killed in a house fire last Christmas. He was there and able to get the children out, but not his sister and her husband. He’s been living with that guilt all year.”

“Doesn’t sound like it was his fault,” said Grip thoughtfully.

“No,” said Matthew, shaking his head, “no, it’s definitely not his fault. But he feels the guilt, nevertheless. He’s a technical writer, so he works from home. That’s allowed him to watch over the children and, in some ways, provide for the children, but my heart aches for him, and I worry that he may do something crazy.”

“I see,” nodded Grip. “Alright, Matthew. As I said, anything for you.”

“Good man,” smiled Matthew. “I’m here if you need me.”

Grip waved at him, his shape disappearing into the wind like a bowl of dust. Irene came up behind her husband, sliding a small hand up his back. Laying her head on his upper arm, she smiled.

“I knew you could get him to go,” she grinned.

“The rest is up to him,” said Matthew. “I think they all need one another. I spoke to Doug, and he felt almost relieved that Grip would maybe find someone.”

“This is perfect, and the children will be cared for and protected. Now, how are we doing for Christmas Eve? Is everything ready?” she asked.

“Of course it is, my love,” he said, kissing her. “We’ve got thousands of food baskets, toys, gifts of all sorts, and, of course, a sprinkling of holiday magic. And you, you, my beautiful wife, have eleven new babies to love on.”

“It’s what keeps us going, doesn’t it, Matthew?”

“Indeed, it does, my love. Indeed, it does.”

They heard the soft sounds of Amanda, Bull, and Mia practicing their Christmas performance, and Matthew held out his hand, swinging Irene into his arms. She giggled, just like she’d done the first time he danced with her, and his heart sang out.

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