I answered Joe’s call, told him what happened, and waited until the officers he called came out to help me. Eventually, several hours after questions and the hospital trip, I went home. Secure in my recliner, I planned not to think of anything else that night.
As I mentioned earlier, that failed. Otecko came over. “Tomás, are you ok?” I smiled as reassuringly as I could. “My body’s fine, but my nerves are screaming for a vacation.”
He was still worried. “This is horrible, not only are you wounded, but we’ve learned something very bad. I have assumed Rastilav was securely in charge of his cronies. Yet they not only attacked you so blatantly. All the while he is pursuing a legal course of action.”
I wasn’t following. “He attacked before, isn’t he just trying both?” Otecko shook his head. “From what I’ve found out about him, he wouldn’t endanger a legal battle to which, he is now drawing such public attention.”
“Are you saying there’s another bunch of crazies out to get us?” My wife handed Otecko a cup of coffee. “It is not a different group, but much like French and Italian roast, it is another blend of danger. This means there are two groups in his camp, there is no clear leader.”
“So Grandma Nightmare may be more than an assassin? She might be the other leader, the more reckless one?” Otecko sipped his coffee, then responded. “An therefore, the more deadly one.”