The Colonel Vs. The Angel of Death Chapter 3 Two Worlds Collide.
Col. Casey is ripped from his relaxing day into a cardiac arrest, while his woman, far to the north in the Pacific Northwest, is attacked by one of Casey's old enemies. What happens when the two worlds collide violently?
The first of Col. Casey's senses to return was his hearing. He cringed at the cacophony of noise and hustle around him; the beeps of the various machines, the urgent orders given in an authoritative voice, which he soon recognized to be Dr. Devon Woodcomb's. He struggled to open his eyes, but Awesome's pen light stabbed at his vision and he tried to turn his head away violently. The doctor's strong, right hand grabbed his oxygen-covered chin and held on.
"John, stop it. Let me examine you. I've got to look into those baby blues, dude." Casey quieted down, but the doc was having a hard time pinpointing the N.S.A. pupil reaction. His "baby blues" were darting around the room frantically, trying to assess where he was.
"Listen, neighbor," Devon lowered the pen light, and place his hand firmly on Casey's bare chest. Startled at Devon's bold invasion of his body space, the Marine stared intently at the doctor.
"John, you are at the NSA hospital in West Hills. No, don' talk." Devon stopped Casey's hand from moving the mask away from his mouth and continued speaking slowly and carefully to his normally stoic friend, now aggressively agitated.
"The General called me in. Your tests show that you have had a cardiac arrest."
Casey grunted loudly and shook his head disbelievingly. Again, Devon placed his hand on Casey's heaving chest, and commanded the Colonel, "Dude, listen." Devon's surfer language was rapidly annoying Casey, but he willed his erratic breathing to slow down. Amazingly, the heart monitor's incessant blipping slowed down, also, as Devon glanced at it and smiled.
"Yeah, that's the way, John. Control your reaction, man. Slow it down. Slow it down." Devon grinned widely and patted his friend.
"Good, Casey. I know you want to go kick some butt right now, but we need to know what caused this. Chuck said you were washing your car when it happened."
Casey nodded slowly, as Devon checked the meds going into the Marine's pick line.
"OK, that's not a highly, aggressive exercise for a big tough guy like you." Devon teased him, as Casey grunted his annoyance. "What happened then?"
Devon moved to adjust the mask, and then waited as he watched Casey remember. Slowly, Casey's face mimed getting a phone call.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Chuck said you got a call from Pastor Annie." At the mentioned of the woman's name, Casey stiffened suddenly, and grunted out his pain, his hands reaching up to clutch frantically at his chest. Immediately, the machines began to scream shrilly.
"Annie..."gasped the Colonel, tears squeezing out of his red face. "Dear Lord, Annie...pray."
The horrendous squeezing in his heart muscle did not let up and his entire body clenched in pain; the Marine began to lose consciousness. The last voice he heard was Devon screaming "Code blue!"
Meanwhile, Pastor Annie Coburn was currently being transported high above the sky over Oregon on her way to West Hills, California. She stirred slightly, as her spirit began to hear from far away, "Dear Lord, Annie, pray."
"John..." she whispered, and was able to slowly become aware of the rhythmic chopping of the medivac blades. Someone was rustling near her, calling out medical vitals, and she realized the information was about her. The gloriously woozy feeling she was wrapped in stilled the sharp pain in her lower back, and the memory of being stabbed in her office back home by the Russian lunatic seemed unreal and mythical.
"Pastor Coburn?" The emergency medical technician moved over to her line of vision and called to her again. "Annie," he spoke louder.
"Hmmm," she mumbled reluctantly.
"You've been stabbed and the knife has nicked your right kidney. You have lost a lot of blood, so we are taking to you to West Hills N.S.A. Hospital. General Beckman instructed us to tell you that Col. Casey will be waiting for you."
"John?" the pastor became restless as she struggled with what the e.m.t. was telling her. The pain in her back began to ramp up and she became more aware of her surroundings.
"No...John's hurt. I have got to get to him" She tried to move off the gurney, but the e.m.t. leaned over her body to restrain her.
"Shh," he said calmly, as he firmly applied pressure to lower her back onto the gurney. Another paramedic squeezed an I.V. Needle full of sedative into her line, and as Annie slipped back into a deep sleep, she prayed softly, mumbling, "Jesus...help my John."
The e.m.t. that had restrained the pastor patted the pilot on the shoulder and shouted over the helicopter sounds. "Radio the General now. Tell her Pastor knows the Colonel is hurt." The pilot jerked his head around in surprise and mouthed "How?"
The medical technician shrugged his shoulders and went back to monitoring the mysterious woman now fast asleep, as the helicopter sped through the air toward the injured N.S.A. Agent.
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