Ultimate Fait Accompli

 265.

The importance of our mission, now reset as Mongoose TOM notwithstanding, I recognize the urgency and necessity of getting back my full range of motion - or as much of it as possible. Arguably 'most important' being the subject's superlative.  

My brief exchange with Mustang on the subject of the speed of my rehabilitation was empowering and motivational. Empowering on the one hand by witnessing its potential and motivational in the sense of a renewed commitment toward a further push on the other. Immediately following the moment where I was informed of the subconscious use of my right arm, I sat in deep meditative recall, isolating detailed events in the hope of finding the secret, or triggers, that had permitted such a profound response from the damaged and dormant electrical hard-wiring of my central nervous system. My only take was that the nerves, ruined by the trauma of gun shot wounds, and now fully engaged in the long and frustrating challenge of rebuilding, had been electrically charged by an over-production and over-abundance of adrenaline, as that powerful hormone acted as both fuel and stimulant for the almost thirty-six dramatic hours of our most recent counter terror campaign. Carefully considering this sobering and paradoxical analysis I fully realize the danger in its hypothetical troupe. It is, I cautioned myself, why they put warning labels on amber medication vials. Still I considered myself to be disciplined enough to heed the warning of those labels and 'use only as directed.'

Mustang for her part, is enjoying the ride, having jumped aboard our turbo-charged, four-wheel-drive, bullet-proof truth and justice bus as I was fully incapacitated in the post-op ward. Her mastery of the elements of neurology and her history with law enforcement a perfect combination for work as my personal assistant. On two occasions she had performed like a journeyman agent, making the right judgment calls and the correct use of tactical weapons under the excruciating stress of close-range hand-to-hand combat. In a phrase, she had proven herself to be a valuable member of our team in a short-order trial by fire. Further, I found the fact that her father, a flatfoot on the beat alongside TOM in the Brooklyn boroughs of decades past, to be most comforting.

We are in a meeting with the group in the tight conference room that abuts my sleeping quarters. It is almost like a reunion. The Queen is holding court describing the wholly ineffective interrogation techniques of her captors with Drysdale and Saunders. Harlan is presenting his latest correspondence with the legal teams of both the DoJ and Hartaugh's staff. And Julie, Mustang and I try our best to suppress the jubilation we all feel as a result of our efforts on behalf of the good guys, knowing that as in baseball there is no crying, in this business there is no gloating.

Our informal group debrief concluded, Julie gavels the meeting into its more pragmatic segment. Topic number one: The re-launch of Firecracker, aka Mongoose TOM, into its new and improved state of play.

Its success, I feel in this moment of hubris, quite possibly the ultimate fait accompli.