The pain that radiated out from Sean's fractured ulna and radius had suffused his entire being, until he drifted in and out in a haze of agony. The hypodermic shot from the Army medic hadn't kicked in yet. Sean had screamed and thrashed when the medic attended to his fractures and it quickly became apparent that surgical intervention was necessary to set right bone fragments that had dislodged when Sean had rolled away from the onrushing drones. He watched through pain dulled eyes as more soldiers screeched to a halt in open-top Hummers. The vehicles were mounted with Javelin anti-tank missile tubes pointed uneasily at the milling Cereborgs that were starting to depart the area now that their target was neutralized. Nothing like hindsight to teach us our vulnerabilities, Sean grimaced. A squad jumped out and ran to the downed Huey, getting to work with jaws-of-life cutters and fire suppressant foam. A throbbing roar heralded the approach of another Huey that set down a respectable distance away, and departed a short while later with its cargo of the wounded on stretchers. Sean watched it go, hoping all three soldiers would make a full recovery.

When his own ride descended from the sky, it took him a while in his pain induced stupor to realize that it wasn't a police or Medivac chopper but Richard's helicopter with the Fuller Dynamics logo. Their flight path rose over the factory and then tracked the shoreline. Sean caught a last glimpse of the yatch that had ferried them here, a pale streak on dark waters, and then closed his eyes as the painkiller mercifully took effect. When he opened his eyes the chopper had landed, and his mother was waiting for him at the Fuller residence helipad. Winona's face wilted when she saw him, and Sean suddenly felt more sorry for her than himself. He must look a sight, but at least there was no bleeding. Elliot was there to receive and conduct him down to the basement bunker, all gleaming steel and chrome in post-apocalyptic decor, where a surgeon waited with an anesthesiologist and a nurse. The nurse setup an IV feed with quite efficiency while the surgeon, a tall silver haired man who introduced himself as Dr. Sinclair, clucked in disapproval at the Medic's handiwork.

"Recent medication?" queried the anesthesiologist, a young woman with dark hair tied into a bun. Sean pointed to a note the Medic had scratched on his makeshift sling, and the woman nodded readying and injecting the dose Dr. Sinclair ordered into the IV. Sean sank into blissful sleep.

#

The agony had thankfully subsided into a dull throbbing ache when Sean woke up. His left arm was in a new sling. He was reclining comfortably in one of the upper floor bedrooms probably reserved for guests by the looks of it. A bedside lamp was on and Sean felt a sense of deja vu as he noticed his mother sitting at the foot of the bed staring forlornly through the window at the gibbous moon rising in the night sky. Her gaze snapped toward Sean even if he hadn't made a sound.

"Sean, how are..." her face twisted with anguish.

"I'll live, mom," Sean spoke quickly, belatedly regretting his choice of words, "not to worry." 

"I hope you are not going to make a habit of this," Winona's face tightened, "getting into life threatening situations, I mean. Your dad's going ballistic... just got off the phone with him. He saw the news in Pennsylvannia even before I did. He's driving back home. The news channels are going crazy... claiming its a prelude to an all out attack. What the heck happened exactly? How many GORGON attackers were involved?"

Sean winced, glad for once that his dad's work had taken him out of town, "Attackers? No, they just managed to hack..."

There was a brief knock at the door which opened to admit Richard and Susan Fuller. Richard walked in pulling out a chair from a writing desk and seated himself before Sean's bed while Susan simply stood behind her husband. Richard looked tired with new worry lines on his face. His eyes weren't smiling now. Sean almost felt sorry for him.

"That could have gone a whole lot worse," Richard spoke after regarding Sean in silence.

"Relax, mom," Sean spoke as Winona's face hardened with anger, "He's right... it could have been a lot worse. I'm very glad someone thought of taking out the rogue drone using the others."

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"That was Kaitlyn's idea," Richard's eyes crinkled, "she was hollering for new drones to be launched to protect you, right off the bat. Not the first thing I would think of to be honest... after all we do not usually deploy our drones against other drones. It took a while to retarget them. You can thank her when you get the chance... she is a hero."

Huh, Sean thought startled, guess I owe Kaitlyn my life. Dammit, the girl was going to be insufferable.

"Dr. Sinclair was able to reset all the dislodged bone fragments," Richard continued, "He has cautioned that your arm might take longer to heal than usual considering the complexity of your fracture. You are cleared to go home in the morning. But please... feel free to rest here as long as you need. And post-operative visits to Dr. Sinclair's clinic are also covered."

"Thanks," Sean nodded, "And thanks for having your private medical team take care of me. Beats waiting in line at Portsmouth General."

"The least I could do," Richard waved away the acknowledgement, "let no one say the Fuller family was negligent in its duty."

"While we appreciate free medical care," Winona ventured coolly, "the fact that Sean was injured on Fuller Dynamics property is hugely concerning..."

"This was an enemy attack, for goodness sakes," snapped Susan, "and premises liability does not..."

Susan stopped and bit her lip as Richard held up a hand placatingly, "Mrs. Cook has the right to pursue all legal channels at her disposal. Just as the Fuller family reserves the right to defend itself in court along with the corporations in which we hold a controlling interest. These are extraordinary circumstances. We deny any legal liability or wrongdoing and my lawyers are ready for any challenge... no matter how long it takes."

How typical, muttered Sean to himself, the rich dude threatening us with bankruptcy if we sue him. Sean wasn't a big fan of litigation, in principle, except where it was deserved. And he couldn't convince himself Richard deserved it. It was true Fuller had badly underestimated GORGON, but given the information available he wasn't sure anyone could have done better. There was something pathetic about suing a rich guy for his money, almost like begging for a handout. There were many who wouldn't hesitate, but Sean wasn't one of them... he wanted much more. To rise to be Fuller's equal by carving out the heart of his empire if necessary. Delusions of grandeur, perhaps?  The throbbing pain in his arm while not as bad as before was steadily gnawing away at his composure. Sean did not react well to pain. And something about Richard's attitude rankled him... the cool confidence that the Fullers had nothing to fear from plebians. Not with their legion of well paid lawyers behind them.

"Earlier this evening, Richard, you claimed that you owed me a debt," Sean retorted, "Do you still stand by it? How much is that debt worth? Ten percent of your controlling interest? Five percent? Give me a rough number."

"What?" blurted Winona, looking astonished at her son's outburst.

Richard regarding Sean in surprise for a long moment and then threw back his head and laughed. It was the first time Sean had seen him laugh and it went on and on.

"Cut it out," snarled Sean, the pain in his arm spiking, "that wasn't a joke."

Richard stopped laughing, the humor draining abruptly from his face. His voice was cold, "You have the audacity to make demands of me? You forget who I am, kid... you may have helped us out of a tight spot and we won't know until the retrofit goes out in the field. You would have earned my gratitude. But you seem to have mistaken my kindness for weakness. Your stupid aspiration, if it can even be called that, is so outrageous that the medication must have addled your brain. This conversation is over. Elliot will conduct you to the gate at first light."

Richard got up, pushing back the chair.

"I knew he was after something..." Susan blurted, "I know his kind..."

Susan stopped with her hand over her mouth, a look of horror on her face. She had meant to say 'his type' but it had come out a little differently.

"Our kind?" Winona said coldly, as Sean blinked.

"No, I didn't mean..." winced Susan, "I only meant..." She stopped and sighed, "Anything I say now is only going to get twisted out of context... I'm truly sorry that it has come to this."

"As I am," nodded Winona stiffly. Sean watched with misgiving  as the Fullers left the room.

"Well..." Winona glared at her son, "that could have gone a whole lot better... what the heck got into you, Sean?"

 END OF CHAPTER