by David Carter
Chapter 77
Five days later
“What are the chances he’ll wake up?” a teary-eyed Elizabeth asked the doctor while he checked Blaze’s vitals.
Blaze had been rushed to Brighton Hospital and gone straight into surgery. They’d worked around the clock to stop the bleeding and repair the damage.
“As I’ve previously explained,” the doctor said patiently, “the bullet shattered his ribs, causing them to splinter, shredding his blood vessels and arteries. Honestly, it’s a miracle he made it through surgery. But as long as his heart is pumping there is every chance he could pull through.”
“Will he still be, you know, himself?”
“That all depends. There was a brief time he went without oxygen while being resuscitated en route to hospital. So I’m afraid it’ll be touch and go as far as that’s concerned.”
“Well, my Bobby is strong. I’m sure his body is healing as we speak.”
The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure it is.”
Trigger woke from his chair in the corner. He aggravated his tender shoulder as he excitedly sat up and looked over at his friend in the hope of good news. It took only a moment of observation for him to sink back, bitterly disappointed. He’s still in a fucking coma.
Ryan and Sharon came later that morning to check on Elizabeth. She hadn’t moved from Blaze’s side. It was the most time she’d spent with Blaze since he’d run away from home as an angry teenager. She thanked God that she’d at least had the opportunity to make peace with him. Even with all the hardships he’d put her through, a sledgehammer couldn’t break the bond of a mother’s love.
“How’s the patient?” Sharon asked.
“Still the same,” Elizabeth replied wearily.
“Stay positive for him.” Sharon gave her a hug. “He needs you.”
Ryan directed his gaze at Trigger. “On a more positive note, I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, and smiled.
“Yeah? What?”
“Not what, but who.”
Confused, Trigger cautiously sat up in his chair.
Ryan opened the door to let the visitor in.
“Ciggy!” Trigger launched himself up and embraced him, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. “God, it’s good to see those yellow teeth. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Language! Please!” Sharon scolded him.
“Er—sorry, ma’am,” he replied sheepishly. “So, what are you doing here, man?”
“You tell him,” Ciggy said to Ryan.
“All right, well, it’s like this: thanks to Ciggy’s assistance in apprehending Mr Chambers, A.K.A, the Jackal, the state has awarded him parole, along with certain restrictions, and the best news is that he’s been offered a scholarship to join the police force as a bomb disposal expert.”
“You hear that, Trigger! I got a fucking job!”
Sharon threw him a curt glance.
“Congratulations, brother! You finally found something useful to do with that strangely-wired brain of yours!” Trigger heartily slapped him on the back. Then he fell silent.
“You okay, man?” Ciggy asked.
“Yes, well, it’s not that I’m unhappy for you, it’s just that–”
“You’re a free man, too,” Ryan interjected.
Trigger suddenly perked up. “You’re serious? I’m not going back to prison?”
“No, but there are some conditions...”
“Name them! I’ll do anything to stay outta that shithole!”
“Seriously, what is it with you boys and your language?” Sharon shook her head in disgust.
Ryan continued. “Commissioner Marshall was made aware of your undeniable skills and attributes behind a rifle scope, and as such has fast-tracked you into the military as an arms instructor. There is no point wasting your life behind bars when you could be put to use, teaching the country’s best and brightest how to fire a weapon correctly. And Trigger, this is non-negotiable. You ship out to Fotheringham Army Base at the end of the week.”
Trigger threw his arms around Ryan. “Thanks, man. I knew you had it in you to save our necks.”
Ryan pulled away. “Don’t thank me, thank Doyle’s superior. Because of your efforts at Camp Tahawus, he personally wanted to recruit you into the FBI. Unfortunately with the impending charges over your head, the commissioner split the difference and decided to better the New Zealand Army instead.”
“I ain’t complaining either way. I hear they feed you well in the army!” He and Ciggy laughed together.
When they’d gotten a hold of themselves, Ciggy asked, “So, what about Blaze? What’s happening with him?”
Ryan exhaled heavily. “Honestly, I don’t know. The commissioner wouldn’t say. Far as I can tell, if he ever wakes up, he’s still going to trial.”
“Really? Even though he saved his life?”
“As I said, I don’t know. He’s been rather tight-lipped on the subject.”
“Well, prison or not, Bobby will always be a hero in my eyes,” Elizabeth said, before discreetly bowing her head and praying to God for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, begging for a miracle.
Three hours later, when everyone had left for the day, Elizabeth felt Blaze’s hand lightly grip her fingers. She rose from her slumped position at his bedside. “Bobby? Was that you?”
His eyes flickered open. He tried to speak. His mouth was bone dry.
“Praise God! You’re awake! Doctor! He’s awake!” She rushed to the door and shouted the good news down the corridor.
The recovery ward’s doctor hastened into Blaze’s room. He noticed the crucifix dangling from Elizabeth’s neck. “I see God answered your prayers,” he said with a smile, then turned his attention to Blaze. “Can you hear me?” he asked.
Blaze offered no response.
“Are you in pain?”
Nothing.
The doctor removed the breathing apparatus from Blaze’s face. He choked and spluttered from the shock of trying to breathe of his own accord. The doctor shone a pen-light in his eyes. Blaze’s pupils responded in turn. “We’ve got brain activity; that’s a good start,” he murmured, and stood aside for Elizabeth to hold Blaze’s hand.
“Bobby, it’s me,” she said.
She felt his hand squeeze. Tears poured from her eyes. “Oh, Bobby, I can’t believe it! You’re still with us!”
The doctor tapped Blaze’s knees with a small mallet. His foot kicked beneath the bed covers. “This is most encouraging,” the doctor said. “Just give him some time to regain his speech. His body has been under extreme duress these past few days.”
The doctor left the two of them to be alone.
“Jane...” Blaze groaned.
“No, Bobby, it’s me, Elizabeth. Your mother.”
“Jane...” He groaned once more, before closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.
Chapter 78
“I hear you’re up and about,” Commissioner Marshall said to Blaze as he entered his hospital room two days later, carrying two take-away coffee cups. He handed one to Blaze. “Ryan told me you’re quite the caffeine addict. I must confess I’m a bit of an espresso junkie myself.” He smiled, breaking the ice between them.
“Thanks, I guess.” Blaze paused. “Why are you here?”
The commissioner appreciated his frankness. “Straight down to business, eh?” He grinned. “Very well.” He paused to sip from his cup. “It goes like this: ever since your act of bravery at Government House, I’ve found myself torn between the law and the fact you saved the life of someone ready to put you behind bars. If you hadn’t have taken that bullet for me, well, let’s just say I don’t think my body has the same youthful healing prowess as yours. The doctor informed me your recovery is a minor miracle, and that you’ve been given a second chance at life. I’ve also been made aware that you have a certain lady-friend and her son in the States that you put your life on the line for, and improved their lifestyle considerably at no personal ga
in to yourself. Is this true?”
“Yeah. But it was no big deal.”
“No big deal? Out of sheer compassion you rescued a woman and child from the clutches of an abusive husband and father and you think it’s no big deal?”
“Anyone would do the same, wouldn’t they?”
The commissioner shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“That you’re not the heartless bastard I thought you were. Sure, you’ve made plenty of mistakes, but the very reason I sent Ryan after you was because the murder of your girlfriend and grandparents cut you so deep that you had to avenge their deaths. In hindsight, maybe I was wrong in apprehending you. Commissioner Stuart and his daughter were both guilty of first degree murder, and off the record, I’d almost say they deserved exactly what you and the MC dished out to them.”
“You mean, what you think the MC dished out to them.”
The commissioner chuckled. “Don’t patronize me, Bobby. The one you call Ciggy already admitted to designing the bomb and delivering it to Commissioner Stuart’s residence. So you can stop playing the innocent with me.”
“Was worth a shot. So how are we doing this, then? I mean, I’m not naive. Prison time is still on the table right?”
“Not necessarily. But that all depends on two things.”
Blaze lifted a curious eyebrow. “You have my attention.”
The commissioner composed himself, then asked, “Why did you jump into the path of that bullet?”
A few seconds passed while Blaze sipped a mouthful of coffee. “I dunno; instinct, I guess.”
“Instinct, eh? You sure there’s no other reason?”
“Look, I didn’t have time to fucking think about it, all right? I just reacted.”
“You just reacted? Well, if that’s the case, you’re a goddamn hero.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
The commissioner put down his coffee cup. “Bobby, by all accounts you’re arrogant, violent, have a vocabulary that can only be described as repulsive, have a volatile temper, and have a list of criminal convictions at least a mile long. But above all of that, you’re a protector. And although your morals are somewhat twisted and most certainly not condoned within the eyes of the law, your heart is almost always in the right place. What you did for me makes me want to believe there’s more good inside of you than one might believe. And knowing your full history has led me to believe you’ve simply channelled your energies in the wrong direction all these years. I believe there’s a reason you were a loner growing up, a reason why you were different, a reason why you would take a bullet for a stranger. You just need the right people around you. Which leads me to my second question...”
“Let’s have it.”
“All right: for argument’s sake, let’s say I made your impending murder charges magically disappear. Where do you see yourself in five years from now— knowing the SAS is no more and that you have a clean slate? Is there any career path you’d be remotely interested in?”
“Don’t know. I’ve honestly never thought about it. Working for criminals has kind of been my life since I left Glendale. I don’t know any other way.”
“Sure you do. You’ve just never given yourself a chance to excel. A life of crime isn’t exactly what I’d describe as putting your above-average intellect to best use.”
“What are you talking about?”
The commissioner resumed sipping his coffee before he replied, “I’ve been digging through your records, Bobby. And although you probably didn’t put your best foot forward during your high school years, your test results are right up there with the best.”
“You’re fucking kidding, right? You went through my school records? Ha! You won’t find anything in there worth looking at.”
“On the contrary. I found an application to Milton City University hidden among your records. Do you remember sitting that test?”
Blaze sighed. “Oh, yeah, that. My mother forced me to take it so that I had options after hinting that I was dropping out of school. I never actually intended on going to university. I only took the test to shut the bitch up.”
“Did you know your score was in the top one-percent of all applicants?”
“Nope, I never bothered finding out. My mum was desperate to know my results, so to piss her off, when they arrived in the mail, I burned the envelope without even opening it.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Let’s just say my mother and I didn’t get along.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the fact, What I mean, is, why didn’t you want to know?”
Blaze took his time to answer. “I didn’t give a shit.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Look, man, you don’t know the first fucking thing about me. So why don’t you just stop whatever mind games you’re playing with me and fuck off.”
The commissioner ignored his outburst. “You were scared, weren’t you?”
Blaze scoffed. “Scared of what?”
“How smart you are. You didn’t even try on that exam and you aced it.”
“What’s your point?”
“All you cared about was making sure no one ever hurt you again after what happened to you as a child; am I right?”
“Damn fucking right you are.”
“And I understand why you would feel that way. No child should ever be subjected to what you endured. The problem is, though, you lost sight of life’s purpose. After so many years of feeling angry at the world, the thought of success and happiness frightened you. You never had anyone in your corner, backing you and telling you that happiness was within your grasp. Instead you felt unwanted, unholy in the sight of God, unloved by your father and resented by your mother. I’ll walk straight out that door right now if you can tell me otherwise.” He pointed towards the door.
Blaze lay back with a dark frown on his face. “I want to tell you to go fuck yourself more than anything right now...”
“Is that your way of saying I’m right?”
Blaze relented. “More or less.”
“So, you’d agree that you’ve never had a real shot at happiness, knowing someone believes in you?”
“It’s too late for that now. Who’s gonna believe in me? My fucking mother?”
“How about we start with me?”
Blaze was taken aback. “You?”
“Yes. You’ve made a believer out of me— the one person who had you put away for keeps. And take Detective Ryan for example: all this time, I, and many others, couldn’t fathom as to why he was so quick to jeopardise his career so many times for the infamous Bobby Blaise. But after doing my homework, I now know why he feels compelled to stand by you. He wants what’s best for you, too. He saw your potential right from the beginning.”
“All right, all right, enough with the bedtime stories. Just bottom-line this for me.”
“Very well: how would you like not to go to prison?”
“I think the answer to that would be fairly fucking obvious. What’s the catch?”
“You must agree to finally put that brain of yours to good use.”
“That’s it? That sounds too easy.”
“Not necessarily. Now, I’ve found the perfect pigeon holes for Trigger and Ciggy, and subsequently, I believe I’ve done the same for you.”
“Shit. Where are you shipping me off to?”
“Home.”
“Home? What? You mean Glendale?”
“All will be revealed. But first, I need assurance that you trust my judgement, and that from now on you will more or less be a law abiding citizen. Do you think you can manage something as simple as that?”
“I’ll try, but I need you to answer one question first.”
“Sure, fire away.”
“Who was responsible for the deaths of Papa Bear and Lemon?”
“Why? Are you going to exact some code-of-honour biker revenge?”
“It crossed my mind at one point. They w
ere like family to me.”
“In that case it’s best I only reveal to you that one of the guards at Brighton Penitentiary has been apprehended after Mike Chambers confessed who his inside man was, as part of his plea bargain. Justice for your MC brothers will be served, of that I can assure you.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Blaze muttered.
The commissioner couldn’t understand Blaze’s disappointment. “Is there something wrong? I’m making the trial of both Mr Chambers and his inside man a priority for the judicial system, and I’ve made you a free man. What could possibly be the matter?”
Blaze looked him in the eye as he said, “Commissioner, I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust and repay the strings you’re pulling for me right now. But there’s something I need from you if this is going to work.”
“You’re hardly in a position to make demands.”
“Yes, I understand that.. Just hear me out, okay?”
The commissioner listened to Blaze’s proposal. “You’re certain this is what you want?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we best get cracking on it.” He smiled, then said, “Make sure you get plenty of rest, you’ll need to be able to stand for the big day next week.”
“Big day?”
“Yeah: Ryan’s wedding. Apparently he wants his new partner to be the best man.”
Epilogue
“Do you, Sharon King, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister asked.
“I do,” she replied.
“And do you, Cameron Ryan, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Ryan turned to face the packed-out Glendale Christian Church, and loudly proclaimed, “I do!”
The teary-eyed crowd laughed their approval.
“Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you, husband and wife.” The minister turned to Ryan. “You may kiss the bride.”
Nothing in the world could have wiped the smile off Ryan’s face as he lifted Sharon’s veil and kissed her for what seemed an eternity. The whole congregation whistled and cheered as the beautiful couple tied the knot.
“I’m glad to see we finally made a gentleman out of you,” Ryan whispered to Blaze as they signed the register. “Even Sharon can’t get over how good you look in a suit.”
