Mark had been right about the company wanting to settle before the news services got all of the details about the lawsuit. One of the news channels had gone into great lengths about the court sealing the settlement of the previous lawsuit. There was a lot of speculation about the the current lawsuit, and its relation to the previous one. Pundits were having a field day with the topic.
Things really started to move fast. For a quick fifty million, they would settle with Dexter, as long as the records were immediately sealed. Dexter had no problems with settling the lawsuit for that much money. He was bothered by the fact that they wanted to settle before the madman trying to kill him was captured.
His problem was that the papers had to be signed in the courthouse where the lawsuit had been filed. Thinking he could slip in and out without anyone noticing, he agreed to return back home. However, getting from Reno, Nevada to the courthouse ... in time to sign the papers ... was not as easy as it sounded. It was too far to drive, and all of the airlines were sold out of seats. Mark had to arrange for a chartered jet to fly him home.
In order to avoid attention, Dexter snuck out of the hotel at three in the morning. It was necessary to sneak out, since someone had leaked to the press that he was staying in the hotel. He figured it was one of the room service people, or a bellman. He had remained hidden in his room, living on room service, and had relied on hotel security to keep the reporters away from his door. They were mostly successful. It didn't stop the reporters from camping out in the lobby, though.
Five hours after leaving his hotel, having crossed two time zones, Dexter walked into the courthouse with his lawyer by his side. He had not thought to disguise himself, since he figured the press believed he was still in Reno. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to him that there were reporters everywhere. He was spotted by a couple of local reporters, who covered events at the courthouse. While he was inside signing the papers settling the lawsuit, word spread that Dexter was there.
The deal was pretty simple. In exchange for fifty million dollars, Dexter agreed not to talk about the terms and conditions of the settlement. He figured he could keep quiet for that much money. He felt like it was a huge amount of money. From the company's perspective it was only about the same amount of money that one of the top executives had received as a bonus, the previous year.
Not talking about the deal wasn't that hard. The website was still tackling a number of the problems that had infuriated him, while he had worked for the company. He knew the company would have to deal with those issues, too, even though it would be other employees making the company suffer.
The whole proceeding only took fifteen minutes. After the hassles of the trip it was almost anticlimactic. Dexter was exhausted from leaving so early in the morning, the flight, and the drive across the city. He hadn't eaten a real meal yet that day, and his stomach hurt. He ate a couple of pink pills.
After it was over, the corporate lawyers left. Dexter and Mark sat and relaxed in a small room within the courthouse.
Still trying to wrap his mind around the amount of money he had received in the settlement. Dexter said, "I kind of expected a check."
"For fifty million dollars?" Mark asked.
"Yeah," Dexter said.
He kind of pictured getting a huge check like the magazine publishing company used when handing out millions of dollars. Of course, that was a little ridiculous. Real checks weren't that large. It just would have been nice to actually touch a check worth that much money. He had held the check for a million and that had been pretty thrilling.
Mark said, "A bank transfer is a whole lot easier."
"I guess," Dexter said. "So what now?"
"We'll have to set up a bank account, and transfer thirty million over to you," Mark answered.
The rushed nature of the settlement had not given Dexter a chance to set up an account for that kind of money. Mark used his legal account to accept the funds.
"When should we do that?"
"How about now?"
"Okay."
While closing his briefcase, Mark said, "Let's get out of here."
Getting out of the courthouse was a whole lot easier said than done. There was a crowd of newspeople waiting for Dexter on the steps of the courthouse. Feeling like he was the main attraction in front of a firing squad, Dexter froze upon seeing so many news cameras aimed in his direction.
It was pure chaos. Reporters were shouting things at him. Microphones were shoved in his face. He was getting jostled by a couple of people. Dexter couldn't understand a word anyone was saying. He caught small bits of questions, but not enough of one to actually know what was being asked. Unprepared for the onslaught, he just stood there looking around in desperation.
Mark was trying to get the press to step back. He didn't have any more experience handing a zoo like this than Dexter. The press, assuming he was just a bystander, rolled over him like he wasn't even there. Before he knew it, he was standing ten feet away from Dexter.
There was a loud noise, and part of the column behind Dexter exploded. A little debris hit him in the back of his head. He turned around to look at it. As an engineer, he knew that stone columns weren't supposed to fail in that manner.
Puzzled, he said, "What the hell?"
There was another loud noise.
Someone shouted, "He's got a gun!"
Dexter turned around to see who had shouted. Everyone was running in every direction. He looked around trying to make sense out of the confusion. He spotted a guy holding a revolver.
What followed might seem humorous, but it was actually quite human. That Dexter panicked and others mistook his actions for something greater, was understandable.
On seeing the gun, Dexter shouted, "Oh, Shit!"
The human mind is an interesting thing. Under pressure it manages to dredge up some of the most inane, insane, and bizarre thoughts possible. Sometimes, though, the thoughts actually apply to the situation. All Dexter could think of, was a scene in a movie, where two men were getting shot at. One of the characters kept shouting, "Serpentine!" while they were running back and forth.
Dexter took off running in a serpentine fashion. He zigzagged across the front lawn of the courthouse without a real destination in mind. The whole time he was running, he kept thinking that the movie had been comedy. He felt that he had to be the most stupid looking man in the world at that moment. Those thoughts didn't slow him down at all!
He heard another shot fired behind him. He changed direction and ran on. There was a person lying on the ground in his path. In jumping over the person, he tripped and fell. He rolled and stood up. It almost looked graceful. Without pause, he resumed running.
By this time, he was having a hard time breathing. Years of sitting at a desk had taken its toll on his stamina. Each time he was about to collapse, he would hear another gunshot. He'd charge forward focused on running just a little longer.
He kept thinking, 'At least I'm not screaming.'
He suddenly realized that he had somehow turned around, so that he was charging the man with the gun. Rather than doing the smart thing and fleeing, he just continued charging. He kept thinking that this was the most stupid thing he had ever done.
A cameraman was following the action through the lens of his camera. The reporter, halfway hidden behind a column, started giving a running commentary of what was happening. The broadcast was going out live even while happened.
While Dexter was feeling like a total fool, observers had a totally different reaction. During the first few seconds of the event, everyone gathered on the steps had run except for Dexter. It left him standing there as an obvious target. Before the gunman was able to fire another shot, Dexter was off and running. While everyone else was hiding, he was running around with no one around him. The gunman was chasing him in an attempt to get close enough for a good shot.
The reporter announced, "I can not believe what I'm watching. I've never seen anything so brave in my life. Dexter has drawn the gunman away from the rest of the crowd."
"You can see what he's doing. He's running in a random fashion to keep from getting hit while drawing the gunman's fire. This is incredible. Unarmed, Dexter is going mano-a-mano with the gunman."
There was another loud bang and the reporter shouted, "Oh, my! The gunman just fired another shot at Dexter. Dexter appears to be okay. He's still drawing the man away from the crowd."
"Another shot. Dexter is still going strong. This is amazing. I've never seen anything like this."
There was a short pause in commentary, but the camera continued to capture the action.
Excited, the reporter announced, "What's Dexter doing now? It looks like ... yes ... it looks like Dexter is charging the gunman. What incredible bravery."
"The gunman looks like he's taking a shot! He's out of bullets. I can't believe it. Dexter must have counted how many shots the guy fired before turning to charge him. This is amazing. I don't know how anyone can keep their cool like that."
Dexter collided with the gunman at full speed. They ended up on the ground, with Dexter lying atop the other man. Trying to catch his breath, Dexter could barely move. The man was struggling to get out from under Dexter. To the rest of the world, it looked like they were wrestling.
"Dexter has tackled the gunman! He's got the gunman subdued!" the reporter shouted into his microphone.
The cameraman zoomed in on the action. A crowd gathered around Dexter, took care of the gunman, and helped Dexter sit up.
Dexter sat on the ground, breathing heavily. He was gasping for air. His side hurt. He couldn't feel his legs. His left arm was numb. His stomach hurt ... He could do something about his stomach. He reached into his shirt pocket searching for the packet of pink pills. His pocket was empty.
"I can't catch my breath," Dexter panted just before he fell over sideways.
Dexter woke feeling like an elephant was sitting on his chest. A woman in a uniform was looking down at him, fussing with some stuff on his chest. He didn't have the strength to lift his head off the gurney to see what she was doing. It felt like she was randomly poking him.
Confused, he asked, "What? Where am I?'
"Ahh! The hero awakens," the woman said, as she continued attaching things to his chest.
"Hero?" Dexter asked.
The last thing he remembered clearly was running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
"We'll be at the hospital soon," the woman said.
She reached over and pushed a button. Suddenly, there was a beeping noise from behind him.
"Hospital?" Dexter asked.
The woman said, "Yes. We're in an ambulance and you're going to the hospital."
"What happened?" Dexter asked.
"You kind of overdid it out there. Someone your size shouldn't do all of that running around like that," Mark answered.
"Was I shot?" Dexter asked.
He was wondering what Mark was doing in the ambulance with him. The odd thought crossed his mind that Mark was a lawyer, and was redefining what it meant to 'chase an ambulance.' He hadn't ever thought it actually included riding in the ambulance.
"No," Mark answered.
Dexter said, "Good. I didn't want to get shot."
Mark chuckled.
Dexter woke up to the sound of a machine making a beeping noise. He looked around wondering where he was. It took a few minutes for him to realize that it was the emergency room of a hospital.
An Asian man in green surgical garb came up to Dexter and started talking. Dexter was so confused that he couldn't follow a single word the man was saying. He just grunted polite agreement to the man whenever he paused. He got worried when the man mentioned something about surgery.
Dexter woke to the sound of beeping. His chest hurt, his throat was dry, his stomach hurt, and his eyes felt like someone had rubbed sand in them. It hurt to inhale. It hurt to exhale. He wondered how long he could live without doing either.
A man stopped by his bed and looked down at him. He asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Shitty," Dexter answered in a slurred raspy voice.
"That's normal," the man said.
"Maybe for you," Dexter mumbled.
The man fiddled around with some things that Dexter couldn't see.
The man said, "You'll be up and around by this time, tomorrow."
"No way," Dexter mumbled.
Dexter woke up and looked around. He wondered how it was that each time he opened eyes he was in a different place. He noticed that Mark was sitting in a chair next to his bed.
Mark asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Shitty," Dexter answered.
"That's normal," Mark said.
"Maybe for you," Dexter mumbled feeling like he had been through all of this, before.
"The surgery went well. They say you'll be up and walking around tomorrow," Mark said.
Mark tried to look down at his chest, but he couldn't see it. He asked, "Do I have a horrible scar?"
"No. You've got a little bitty bandage. It wasn't a major invasive procedure, but you were in there for eight hours," Mark said.
"A little bandage?" Dexter asked. He remembered seeing heart operation scars on other people. They were huge jagged things.
"Yes," Mark said.
Dexter asked, "Where's the doctor?"
"He'll be around in a while. The nurse just left to deal with another patient," Mark answered.
Holding his hands over his stomach, Dexter said, "My stomach hurts. Can you get me a pink pill?"
"You'll have to ask the nurse," Mark said, looking worried as Dexter had suddenly lost his color.
"I really need a pink pill," Dexter said.
"I'll get the nurse," Mark said, slipping out of the room.
Dexter woke up. He was in a different room. He looked around wondering if he had stepped into the Twilight Zone. It wasn't normal to find you were in a different room every time you woke up.
He wasn't awake for more than three minutes before a doctor showed up, and started prodding him.
The doctor said, "You are a very lucky man."
"Why?" Dexter asked.
"You got both your heart and stomach fixed in one trip to the hospital," the doctor said.
"My stomach?" Dexter asked.
"You were working on quite an nice little ulcer there," the doctor said. He gently patted Dexter on the belly.
Dexter said, "I just thought all the coffee I drank was giving me a sour stomach."
"I bet you've been medicating yourself with the pink stuff," the doctor said.
"Yes," Dexter said.
"It didn't really help, did it?" the doctor asked.
"Not really," Dexter said.
"I've had patients who come in who've been drinking one or two bottles of it a day. You'd think they would figure out they have a problem, eventually."
Dexter said, "You can blame it all on stupidity."
"Are you talking about yourself?"
"Sure. Why not?"
The doctor said, "I watched you on television. That was a pretty brave thing you did."
"You want to know the truth?" Dexter said not quite sure what the doctor had seen.
"Sure," the doctor said.
"I was scared out of my mind," Dexter said.
The doctor said, "I've been there and done that. I was in the First Gulf War."
"Oh," Dexter said. "I felt stupid."
"I know the feeling," the doctor said.
"I mean, I really felt stupid," Dexter said.
The doctor said, "There were a few moments during the war, when I sat there thinking to myself, that I had to be the stupidest man in the world. It didn't stop me from doing what had to be done."
"I didn't know what I was doing," Dexter said.
"Neither did I," the doctor said with a laugh. "Just don't tell anyone."
Dexter said, "No one would believe me."
The doctor said, "Your throat is going to be sore for a day or two. I had to take a look around, and see what was the matter with your stomach. We stopped the bleeding. I've got you on some heavy duty antibiotics. With your recent heart surgery, you probably would have been on them, anyway."
"That's good," Dexter said.
"You should get a complete physical. You're lucky to be alive," the doctor said.
"I'll do that," Dexter said.
"Well, the cardiologist will have you walking around, soon. Just don't do any heavy lifting for a day or two."
"No heavy lifting," Dexter said.
"And stay away from the pink stuff for a while."
"Right."
Edited By TeNderLoin