Karma's a Bitch & Then Someone Dies

I had made a rookie mistake. Thomas also had a knife and I hadn't kept him in view. He had slashed me with his knife. The plastic strips in the kidney belt stopped the blade from going into my body but the blade slid across my back and ribs. That was the fire I felt. I kicked Thomas away from me and faced Sergio.

Now Sergio tried to stab me from the front but I was able to block the blow. I grabbed his arm, twisted it and forced it over my shoulder as I turned. When I felt the arm lock I used my shoulder for leverage broke his arm and he went to the floor. Quickly I turned to face Thomas again, but I was starting to fade a little because of my loss of blood. I had to finish this fast, before I passed out.

Thomas stepped forward with his knife held high to stab me again. I pulled the .45 and shot him twice. Once in the chest and the second one in the forehead. So much for Thomas. I think my claim of self defense would have had more validity if I had left it there, but Sergio was still a threat. As I turned I saw him getting to his feet so I shot him twice in the head.

I know what some of you will say. Violence doesn't solve anything and I'm a ruthless cold-blooded killer. You may be right where those two are concerned. But violence begets violence and violence solved the threat to my family when the law couldn't. Neither one of those apes will ever harm anyone again.

Wait until you or your family is in danger of being beaten or killed and the police can't or won't do anything to help you. Then tell me that you wouldn't do what was necessary to protect your loved ones. I did what had to be done and I'll let God sort em out and decide who was right.

As I left the bar I must have left a trail of blood. At my truck I pulled off the kidney belt and used my first aid kit to bandage my ribs. I couldn't really get to my back so I taped a gauze pad over the wound.

I got into my truck and drove away. About a mile away, I pulled over and passed out. That's where the police found me. They had a description of the shooter from the bar; that and the .45 led to my arrest. They took me to the ER and from there to jail.

Sorry, a word here about the police. I admire these men and women almost as much as I admire our military people. The cops do a job that most of us couldn't or wouldn't do. They have to take bullshit from the asshole public that no sane person should have to tolerate. Then we expect them to put their lives on the line to protect those same assholes. They are under appreciated and woefully under paid. If you parents want a role model for your children, you could do a lot worse than a policeman.

The D.A., Charles Watson, wanted to charge me with everything including the shooting of JFK, the Lindbergh baby kidnapping, and the sinking of the Titanic. He was a liberal and didn't believe anyone had the right to protect themselves. Bring it on, I stand by my actions, I thought. He and his kind are the real assholes of the world.

After I got out of the hospital, I was brought before a judge and given an attorney and a trial date was set. Bail was refused because of the double killing. I pleaded justifiable homicide (self defense) and was put back in jail to wait for my trial. My stay in jail was interesting if nothing else. Most of my fellow inmates were waiting for trial, waiting for sentencing, waiting for an appeal or just waiting to go to another jail.

I was attacked twice. Being a new "fish" I had to be put in my place. While the two guys that attacked me were in the infirmary, the word got around about why I was in jail. After that, I didn't have any more trouble. The criminal element was impressed with how far I had gone to protect my family.

Lucky for me, I was in a relatively new section of the jail. I only had to share a cell with one other man. His name, can you believe it, was Bubba; I kid you not. Bubba was a very large man, 6 feet 7, 300 pounds, from Georgia. He had followed his wife when she came to the city to see her sister. Her sister wasn't at home, but her sister's husband was. Bubba walked in on them as they tried to screw each other to death. He helped by killing the man and putting his wife in the hospital for a month or so.

Other than that one time Bubba was a gentle giant. He and I discussed a lot of things to pass the time. We talked about music, southern rock mostly, baseball, politics, and what we were going to do when we got out. (Bubba wasn't getting out, but he had hopes) I think the fact that he and I were friends also had something to do with the prison population leaving me alone.

Zack and the rest of the family had been in to visit me a few times. On one of the visits Bubba's sister was visiting at the same time and I got to introduce my friend to my family. Bubba was touched that I would introduce him to the family and thanked me for including him. Alyssa and Jake would bring or send notes, letters, and cards to me and they began to send Bubba things too.

After one of the visits by Beth and Alyssa a few of the inmates made some sexual remarks about the girls that upset Bubba. He didn't appreciate their talking about his new "family" that way and he let them know it. He went to solitary for a few days and the two inmates went to the infirmary. I suggested to Zach that the visits with my "girls" be restricted to phone calls.

"Okay but why? I mean it seems safe enough with all the guards and everything," Zach said.

"It's not the girl's safety I'm worried about." I explained about Bubba's displeasure at some of the comments by a couple of the other inmates and the outcome. "He's got it tough enough without having to spend all his time in solitary. Have the girls send him a couple of cards and maybe a picture to let him know their thinking about him."

I didn't know it but the Nam veteran's network was working in high gear. Three days after I was put in jail, I had a visitor. His name was John Kendle and he was one of the top defense attorneys in the country. He did a lot of pro bono work for Viet Nam vets that had legal problems. John decided that I needed more than the court appointed attorney.

Finally after all the legal bullshit, my trial began. Because of the double killing, the D.A. was prosecuting this case himself instead of handing it over to one of his flunkies. It was an election year and a conviction would help his political career. It was a calculated risk on his part because a not guilty verdict would do more than a little harm to his career.

At the time that Watson the D.A. took over the case he thought he would be facing a public defender and had a press conference promising to convict the deadly killer; he meant me. I think he wished he could reconsider his involvement when he found out that John was now my attorney. Instead of facing an overworked, underpaid, and comparatively inexperienced court appointed counsel he would be facing one of the best legal minds in the country.

The jury selection process was a circus all by its self and took a full week. Mr. Watson wanted to stack the jury with anyone that thought that the government knew best and he didn't want anyone that would or could think for themselves.

In fairness I have to say that John Kendle wanted people who worked for a living, were military veterans, or families of vets. Watson wanted mostly young liberals that were used to the government telling them what to do and Kendle wanted a fair mix of older citizens who knew that the government couldn't or shouldn't be in their everyday lives. Like I said a real circus.

Once the trial actually started it was pretty much cut and dried. John stipulated to the physical evidence that my gun had killed Sergio and Thomas; there was no doubt that I had shot them. The only question was why I did it. The prosecutor claimed that the murders were premeditated; that I hunted them down and killed them to get revenge for the attacks on my family.

My stand was that the two attacked me and I killed them in self defense. Watson was right, I did hunt them down and basically executed them like the animals that they were. Of course I wasn't going to admit that to the court.

The D.A.'s glossed over the attack on Alyssa, little Jake being beaten, and the two shootings. His witnesses were a parade of policemen, forensic experts, and even a psychologist. The shrink said that I was suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome which caused me to hunt down and kill the two men. His diagnosis was made without ever having interviewed or even talked to me.

John quickly brought out the fact that the "good" doctor had never interviewed or examined me and because the D.A. brought it up first, John was able to go into more depth and detail concerning the two shootings, the carjacking, assault on Alyssa, and beating given to Jake. The prosecutor's objections were shot down so at least the jury knew what kind of people those two were.

There had been two drunks in the bar that night but Watson and John decided not to call either one of them to testify. They had been sleeping off a drinking binge and would have made horrible witnesses for either side. The bartender testified that he saw me come into the bar and go to the back room where the two boys were drinking. The D.A. didn't ask him anymore questions but John got the bartender to admit that he heard Sergio yelling at me but that he didn't see what the yelling was about or what happened in the room.

Another witness that was called by Watson was the bartender on duty when I had my first run in with Sergio, Thomas, and Ralph. It was a mistake because the man testified that the three attacked me. As it ended up the only evidence that the D.A. had was that I had shot the boys. He couldn't prove intent or premeditation.

The trial ran for almost two weeks before the judge called for closing arguments.

John Kendle's closing stated that twice I had gone to the men and tried to convince them to leave my family alone. He explained that on both occasions I was attacked, the last time with deadly weapons. I had no choice but to defend myself he told the jury; the injuries I incurred from the knives proved my life was in danger. In John's final statement he said that it wasn't a crime to protect yourself with deadly force if your life was in danger.

Mr. Watson's closing was pitiful. He rambled on and tried to convict me with his words instead of evidence. In the end if you filtered out all the big words and speech making all you had was that I had killed those two men. He couldn't prove his claims of murder and couldn't disprove my claim of self defense. Watson basically said that I had shot the men and therefore I must be guilty.

The judge instructed the jury as to their duties and sent them to deliberate on the charge of "murder in the first degree".

***********************

John told me that he believed that I would be acquitted on the charge of murder but might be found guilty of some of the lesser charges brought against me, such as aggravated assault and assault with a deadly weapon.. He told me not to worry too much about a guilty verdict on any of them because he planned to make appeals if necessary.

"Nothing personal John but if it's just the same to you, I rather not have to go through all this shit again," I told him with a smile. I knew that I could deal with what I did and with any punishment meted out, but I really would like to stay out of jail.

He laughed and patted me on the shoulder and then looked passed me as the door to the jury room opened. The members of the jury filed back to their seats with solemn looks on their faces. The jury foreman was the last in line and as he took his seat he glanced at me and nodded.

The foreman, one Ted Gallager, slipped by Watson in the jury selection. Gallager at 42 was a former Marine, retiring after 20 years in the Corp. He was now a government employee; I guess that's why the D.A. thought Gallager would be an asset to the prosecution.

You've all seen it on TV, the judge came in and asked the jury if they had reached a verdict and then requested that the jury foreman read the verdict.

"We the jury find the defendant not guilty of all charges and stipulations." The spectators in the court room gave a loud cheer of agreement.

****************

Two weeks after the trial I said good bye to Zack, Beth, Alyssa and Jake. I had done what was necessary to protect my family but I was ready to go home. Zack and Beth tried to talk me into moving to Santa Clara but I like my life and friends in San Diego. My wife is buried there and my closest friends live there; it's my home. After all the years in the Army traveling all over the world, I finally had a home.

The drive back home took longer than the drive to help my family and I had time to rethink some things. I'm truly sorry that those boys forced me to kill them, but I would do the same thing all over again. The events in Santa Clara and seeing Zack and the family also made me realize how hollow living alone is.

I think I'll talk to Stella about becoming more than friends with benefits.

I'm not ready for the grave yet and life goes on.