Despite the protest from Doctor Lawson, he eventually had to concede there was no reason John should not be released. He had been a model patient, and tolerated a lot of tests and therapy for the better part of eighteen months. Max had tried a few times to get John's release papers and only succeeded on the third try. Many medical experts that Max spoke with were positive that if John's memory was going to return, it would have happened sooner rather than later. They were sure that the damage to his brain had completely obliterated the memories that he had prior to the accident. The longer he went without any recall, the less likely it was ever going to happen.
So when Max took his case to court and explained that John had gone above and beyond to prove he was no longer a threat to society, the judge reluctantly agreed. The judge still insisted that certain conditions be met before signing off, which Max pretty my expected. It was a short list and they didn't seem too intrusive. John had to check in with what was like an unofficial parole officer, attend therapy with a local shrink, and stay close to where Max was living so that he could keep an eye on him too. The last was not expected by Max but seeing that John trusted him a lot, it seemed fair to have him nearby if his help was needed. Max agreed to the conditions, as did John the next time Max when to visit him. Upon agreeing to the terms of his release, the judge signed off as well and he would be released the next day. The judge seemed uncomfortable about it, but he had no choice. Max had painted him into a corner and this had to happen sooner or later, especially since not a single memory came back and John was also a model patent at the mental facility.
The next day, Max and Hugh drove back up to the mental facility that had been John's home for over a year. John had packed lightly and was all smiles as he waited at the curb for the car to pull up. Once he parked the car, Max got out and walked over to shake John's hand.
"Welcome to the free world," Max said before taking the box from John and carrying it over to the trunk which was already open.
"Thanks," John replied, "It feels weird to be out. Hello Mr. Kissel!"
"Hey John," Hugh said. He had the window rolled all the way down and his elbow sticking out as he rested his arm. "If you could be so kind, please get into the damn car before those doctors change their mind."
John looked at the door to the facility and then back at Hugh. "That's not a bad idea."
Max shut the trunk and watched as John got into the back. He then looked over at the front door, where a few doctors were watching. Some of them had to know what was going on, who they were releasing back into the unknowing public. Max wasn't concerned they would leak the details of John's case, or the fact that he was the Night Reaper. If word got out, they'd get the most heat from an angry public for letting him go in the first place. Their hands were just as tied as the courts, which meant John's secret would remain one for quite some time if all went well. That in itself was a very tall order. Once back in the car, Max turned back to look at John.
"You eat lunch, yet?" he asked his new passenger.
"Not yet," John answered.
"Let's hit the Bob's Rib Joint again," Hugh said, as he relished the idea of good barbeque again, "John's freedom is worth celebrating."
"Sounds good to me," John asked, "But I hope you guys are buying, because I've got to watch my budget."
"Lunch is on me," Max called out.
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"Since John is a client," Hugh added, "You can write this off as a business expense anyway."
"Bingo." Max said with a smile as he pulled out onto the streets and started to drive away from the hospital John had been at for so long.
John couldn't help but look back at the mental facility and what the last year had been like for him. He remained rather quiet during the short trip down the highway to the same rib shack that Max and Hug had taken him to before he checked into the hospital. As they sat at the table and waited for their food, max could tell that John was in another world rather than at the table with him and Hugh.
"John," Max started, "You've been rather quiet during our trip."
"I'm sorry," John replied, smiling back. "I'm just nervous. After all that's happened, part of me can't believe they just let me walk. I'm expecting that agent or that sheriff to come out of nowhere and drag me back to the hospital for a few more years."
"Not going to happen," Hugh said after taking a sip of his beer.
"They'd have to get through us first." Max added.
"Thank you," John said, sipping his water. "I really don't know how I would have gotten out of this nightmare without you."
"You'll be alright." Max said, as he patted John on the shoulder, "I will be living less than two blocks away, and Hugh always finds a way to visit my practice so you'll have friend where you're going and I am very confident you'll make more on your own."
"What practice?" John asked.
"I'm sorry if I didn't tell you," Max said, clearing his throat. "My wife was offered a job in another county, so I quit the public defender office and set up my own law firm. It's been difficult but I think we're doing all right so far."
"I had no idea," John said, shocked, "What county do you live in now?"
"It's a nice area." Max replied, "You'll like it."
"It's not in that Sheriff's jurisdiction either," Hugh said, "So you won't have to worry about that jackoff off harassing you."
"I like it already," John declared.
Everyone at the table had a good laugh, and the tension at the table died down a little bit. As they were talking more about John's future accommodations, Max couldn't help but notice something out of the corner of his eye. He immediately put his napkin down on to the table and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Hugh asked.
"Little boy's room," Max replied, "Nature is calling."
Max left the table and slowly marched into the men's room, eager to see if his instincts were right. Once he was in there, he got all the confirmation when he spotted the man washing his hand in the sink.
"Special Agent Wilson," Max said, as he stood there with his arms folded, "I really hope you're here for the good food."
"Don't be a fool." Wilson said, drying his hands, "You know I'm still following John. The surveillance will never stop."
"How long does this guy have to live a normal life before you finally let this go?" Max asked.
"To be honest, I'm not sure." Wilson honestly answered, "But I'm not there yet."
"What what about the apartment I set up for him?" Max then asked, "Are you going to watch him there too?"
"Not directly." Wilson replied, as he understood how upset Max was to see him there. He honestly didn't care. "We will have two agents living in an apartment down the hall, posing as good neighbors. Their job is to monitor the building, not spy on him. Just to make sure no pets or people disappear in the middle of the night. Keep a head count and just make sure nothing major occurs."
"Alright," Max conceded, "I'll let that slide."
"You will?" Wilson replied, shocked.
"As long as you don't get caught," Max added, as he was not against completely the idea. "If he spots a van watching him, or catches someone following him or going through his apartment, I'll slap you with the mother of all restraining orders. I won't say anything, but if John catches you, I will unload in court with both barrels. Are we clear?"
"Crystal," Wilson replied, "I'll make sure that never happens."
"We'll see about that." Max said, as he watched the F.B.l. agent stroll out of the bathroom. Max tossed some water into his face and collected himself before returning to his table. He would tell Hugh about it later, but for the time being John didn't need to know any of it. Max wanted him to have a legit shot at a new life, and the last thing he wanted was the guy to spend it all looking over his shoulder. He wouldn't act unless he had a reason too. As long as Wilson and his people kept their distance, the easier it would to prove them to that John was no longer a threat. Soon enough they'd eventually get bored and eventually move on to more exciting cases. Eventually.