Love and Death in Virginia: A Love and Death Mystery & Political Espionage Series

By Hal Graff

Welcome to the thirteenth exciting episode of the Love And Death Mystery and Political Espionage series.

     After being shot by past AIO leader Ekain Koldo, Gatewood spends months in a coma fighting for his life.  Once he recov

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harold Graff II Publishing
• Release date: Nov 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781962569309

Hal Graff

Dr. Hal Graff holds a doctorate in business administration. He is a native of Gibson City, Illinois. Hal is a proud father and grandfather. To date, he has published 104 books, including 96 novels. He has published over 6 million 900,000, words.

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Prologue

GATEWOOD HAD NEVER KNOWN WHAT HAD HIT HIM.  He had made his triumphant return to baseball for a second time.  His last memory was watching the cheering crowd of thirty-nine thousand one hundred appreciate fans on their feet, cheering his single to right-center field on the first pitch he had seen on his first at bat. 

The hit had felt good, and despite the stinging in his hands caused by hitting a ninety-eight mile an hour fastball an inch below the sweet spot of his bat, he had been happy to put up with the pain.  He had surveyed the crowd and remembered his dad, and his deceased wife Akemi Gang Gatewood. 

In a flash of second, his storybook return had ended.  Before he had passed out, he had remembered the instant, overwhelming pain in his back and chest, and his fall to the light-colored brown dirt in front of him.  As he was falling he had remembered seeing his blood flying through the air.

His fall to the ground had been a surreal experience.  He had felt detached from his body, as if he were looking down at the scene, as he had fallen to the ground.  He had remembered lying in the dirt, hearing sounds of panic and screams of terror from the people in the seats.  He wondered if the events were actually happening. 

Then, everything went blank.  He had not remembered being treated for his rifle shot wound on the field, the first aid administered by the team doctor on the field, or the helicopter ride to the nearest hospital.  He did not remember being rushed from the helipad on the roof of the hospital to the elevator down to the operating room, as he was out cold. 

He had been administered medical treatment for his wounds and his passage into shock.  He had then been operated on to stop the bleeding, patch his wound, and more importantly, regulate his breathing and stabilize his vital signs.  All were done without his recognition.     

After the operation, he was then wheeled to his room in intensive care unit of the hospital.  His mind and body had not recovered from their ordeal.  After two hours in his room his mind had made a slight recovery.  Gatewood had then seen bright light, a long tunnel, and his smiling grandfather motioning for him to join him.  In his mind, Gatewood had arisen from his hospital bed and, smiling, had started to walk toward his grandfather.

Then, he had lost consciousness, and had slipped into a coma-like state, where he had stayed for six weeks. 

When he had been asked if he could hear his doctor’s questions he had been unable to respond.  He was also not able to respond to stimuli, or attempts to use pain as a motivator for his return to consciousness.  He was unable to feel, speak, move, or open his eyes.

His doctors had feared the coma-like state might go on indefinitely.  They had done everything in the normal arsenal of medical treatments to bring Gatewood back to consciousness, all without success.  They had done the needed surgery to repair his bullet wound, stabilize his heart rate, and had followed up with blood work, checked his levels of glucose, calcium, sodium, potassium, magnesium, urea, and creatinine.

Brian scans and MRI’s had not identified the path to Gatewood’s return to an alert state.  EEG’s had been utilized to monitor his brain waves and to check for possible signs of seizures. 

His recovery would require his cerebral cortex, the gray matter that formed the outside layer of his brain, to return to a state where he could again enjoy normal neurological abilities, sensory responses, and complex-thinking abilities.  He was in a deep sleep, and his brain stem structure was on a holiday, one which needed to return to prevent Gatewood’s condition from worsening, or his trip down the brightly lit tunnel to meet his grandfather in heaven would become a reality. 

Six weeks stretched into seven, then eight, then eighteen.  Hi friends and family prayed for his recovery.  His enemies, the AIO, the Yakaza, the Columbian Carmelo and Mountain Producer drug cartels, Mateo Amon, TCPLM leader Diego Ramirez, President Nazoa of Venezuela, Salvador Masas, aka The Stinging Hornet, the Venezuelan and Sicilian Mafia Godfathers Fabbri and Celestino Durante, all prayed for his demise.

Eighteen weeks stretched into twenty-four, and Gatewood was still in a coma.  At 3:05 p.m., Central Standard Time, the ballplayer’s heart monitor starting beeping and fluttering like a butterfly.  The nurse on duty scurried to Gatewood’s room, and was joined by two on-duty doctors. 

A flurry of activity followed as Gatewood’s heart raced and drug the patient back toward the real word.  He awoke to see the three hospital personnel staring down at him.  He smiled and raised his right hand from the bed.  He feebly made a fist, and gave the thumbs up sign to the three medical professionals. 

They smiled and monitored his medical condition to make sure his vital signs were normal and under control, and urged him to relax, telling him he was going to be alright.  Gatewood was in no condition to argue, as he was as weak as he could be.  He meekly smiled and did not speak, then watched the three caretaker’s actions appreciatively. 

After a half hour of chart reading, taking his blood pressure, checking his vitals, asking him about how he felt, and smiling and congratulating him on his return to the world, they explained what they were going to do the next two or three days to make sure he was feeling well.

The on-duty nurse said she would stay in his room to monitor his continuing condition, and the doctors assured him that they would be nearby to help him, and that they would be checking on him periodically.  Finally, he was able to relax in his hospital bed.

Harold thought about his near-death experience with his grandfather in the brightly-lit tunnel.  He had experienced the same scenario when he had been stabbed by his fiancé Lore Lehoi in San Toro de Lidia, Spain at the Running of the Bulls festival.  Gatewood thought about his grandfather, then smiled and said, Not yet, not yet.  I am not ready to go.  I have too many scores to settle, and too many things I need to do. 

Chapter 1

Fresh Air

January 9

DEAN GATEWOOD, HAROLD’S DAD, HIT THE hit the garage door opener and drove his white Cadillac into the garage. He and Harold’s mother exited the car, opened the door, and helped Gatewood out of the front passenger seat. They stabilized their son by placing both of his arms over their shoulders, and then helped him walk to the kitchen, and then a comfortable chair in the back family bedroom by the bay windows.

Harold was surprised how tiring the short walk had been, and happily sat down. After talking with his parents for an hour he fell asleep in the chair and enjoyed a two-hour nap. After supper Harold turned in early and rested, as he was tired from his flights from Phoenix to Chicago, and from Chicago to the Central Illinois airport.

The next day he stayed with his parents until mid-afternoon, and then had his dad drive him to his home. They exited the car and stopped in the garage. Harold took a deep breath of the fresh, crisp December air. As it entered his lungs he thought about how nice it was to be home again. He looked out at the snow-capped front yard and was thankful for being alive.

Much like Harold Gatewood, America had taken a breath of fresh air. The election had been held and a new hope for the return to the founding principles of the nation, and had filled the country’s lungs with pride and patriotism. The American people were doing much better as they had elected a new president, Eric Clancy, who was not a member of the Washington elite. After a rocky start, he was making steady progress in reversing the disasters of the eight years of his predecessor’s reign of terror.

Among other things, America felt hopeful that they could stop the flow of drugs and illegal immigrants into the country, and reclaim the principles that had made the country the most special place on earth. Each dawn the day looked brighter for the country than it had for the eight years of the thankfully-now-out-of-office ex-president, Lance Edwards.

Clancy was from Utah. He was a successful businessman who had entered the Senate for one term and then had won the party nomination over a crowded field of candidates.

He had ridden his belief in the Constitution, his strong personality, his unwavering loyalty to the historical founding of the country, and his belief in the spirit of the American people to victory in a contested election.

He had made his fortune in land investment and the oil business. He was the possessor of an extremely high IQ, and was schooled in both academic theory and common sense.

He was a devoted family man, had been married thirty-two years, had three children, two boys and one girl, and six grandchildren. He was politically savvy, and had made mincemeat out his primary opponents of his political party. He had smashed his unqualified, corrupt, out-of-touch, scandal-ridden political opponent in the general election, carrying many members of his party into office with him.

He had gained power and control of the presidency, and both houses of congress. He represented all of the countrymen who wanted America to rebound from the disgraceful, scandal-laced eight-year period of his predecessor. He was a breath of fresh air.

He was a scratch golfer, a black-diamond quality snow skier, a scuba diver, a fly fisherman who had chased trout from Idaho, Utah, and Montana to the world-famous brown trout rivers of Southern Argentina. He was a sportsman of the highest quality, and was also a fan of almost every sport imaginable.

He was an elder in his church and a strong believer in the power of the almighty. He believed his success was a gift from God, as he had a mission to perform to help mankind.

He was facing the ultimate rebuilding of the country, as it had been torn down and divided over the eight years before he took office. The opposition party had not taken kindly to being defeated, and had resorted to obstruction and tactics that bordered on illegality. He was being forced to deal with sore losers who had decimated the social fabric of the country to advance their socialist, one-world government agenda, and a fifth column of the media who shared the same goals. Muckraking and biased reporting had ruled the day prior to Clancy’s victory.

Unfortunately, the attacks and yellow-journalism increased after the election victory that threw the shameful prior administration’s party out of office. Factual reporting and proper research techniques were replaced by made-up, out-of-thin-air media stories slanted to influence public opinion and create barriers to Clancy’s success. The media had become an arm of the opposition party, specializing in disinformation.

The tactics were overruled by the truth in most instances and the opposition to Clancy’s plans for American progress was recognized for its true nature. Clancy’s plans for the rebuilding the country were embraced by the country’s citizenry as being correct and necessary to put the country back together. The prior administration had cracked the fabric of the country much like Humpty Dumpty when he fell off the wall. Clancy was putting the pieces of the country back together again.

The economic decline during the previous eight years of the prior Edwards administration had hit middle-America hard. The method of calculating unemployment numbers had been changed to exclude the number of people not looking for work to be excluded from the calculations. The number of people not working was almost one hundred million, the highest in history. Most jobs that were created were part-time in nature.

The fateful decision to rework the greatest medical delivery system in existence had caused employers to cut the number of hours for most workers back to a part-time status in order to save on taxes due the government. An overwhelming number of regulations were set in place by government agencies and executive orders by ex-president Lance Edwards.

Regulations, taxes, and health care changes were strangling small businesses in the country. Companies were moving their manufacturing plants out of the country to reduce their tax burden and escape high union wages. America was no longer competitive in many areas, and Edwards had continued to decimate the business climate in the country.

Edwards had never held a real job in the private sector, and his economic ignorance had been on full display for eight years. He was an economic novice trying to run the country that had been the world’s most vibrant economic power for years.

Illegal aliens were taking jobs from American workers. Many companies were hiring HB-1 workers from other countries. American workers were being forced to train the very people who would be hired to take their jobs once the training process was completed.

The cost of a college education had spiraled out of control and placed the degree programs out of reach for most young people. Those who had managed to stay in college had accumulated mountains of debt they would probably never pay back. The total student debt in the country had swelled to astronomical levels.

College campuses had turned into dens of protest and socialist-leaning activities. Education levels had fallen behind the country’s competitive nations. Asia had stomped America into the ground in terms of science, engineering, and math-related students who could lead their generations in the future. American education from the k-through-12 level had followed the same path as the universities.

Trade deficits had increased and America had descended into an unfamiliar position during Edwards’ years as president. GDP had slugged along at less than two percent, with Edwards being the only president in history to fail to crack the low two percent annual level of growth during his entire term.

Even Edwards’ supports had been forced to admit that his foreign policy had been the worst debacle in American history. He had gutted the greatest military power the world had ever seen, and dishonored its valiant military members and wounded veterans. He had proven to be adept at subordinating American interests to foreign leaders, but had been feckless in any attempt to maintain America’s respected position in the world as a beacon of light for freedom and justice.

Edwards had never met a dictator he did not admire. Even the evil regimes he had supported had grown to realize that despite their good fortune of having such a weak, yet cooperative, president on their side, he was nothing more than a laughing stock on the world stage. He was the poster boy for liberalism and socialism, and the darling of the one-world government crowd, but an empty suit when it came to strengthening America.

President Eric Clancy had been handed an unbelievable mess when he ascended to the oval office. People in the country were hoping he could stop the self-inflected wounds of the Edwards’ disgraceful tenure in the presidency. They prayed for President Clancy’s success.

Chapter 2

Destination Phoenix

January 10

THE STINGING HORNET, THE EL AVISPON PICANTE, was an impatient man who was perpetually in a foul mood, and he was ready to strike. Events in his empire had not been going well for Salvador Masas. His supply of cocaine from the TCPLM had decreased due to the increased stranglehold the American CIO had placed on shipments coming out of Venezuela