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Chapter 11

Someone had found the king in the hospital, he somehow knew he was there. A tall, dark figure approached the king's broken body. He was very thin, but had muscular arms. He wore a mask, so Brock couldn't really tell who it was. He carried him out, slowly because of the kings much larger size. The man brought him to the river, and threw him in. To the mans anger, he floated.

The king floated along the river for a while, eventually washing up on the Fort Memphis military base. He was found by three soldiers, but even though there was a 2 and a half million dollar bounty on his head, and called Col. Johnson. As Johnson arrived, he said to the three men, "we mustn't tell anyone of this, not yet." All three had gave their word, and Johnson took him back to his personal doctors to have him checked out.

He had a broken jaw, fractured wrist, and a small spinal fracture. He was given the full body "AHU", or Auto-Healing Unit. Which even though given the name "auto" would only speed up the healing process to only two days. After those two days, Johnson was sitting at his favorite bench, all alone, looking out at the beautiful skyline and smoking his pipe that was given to him by his great-grandfather Sgt. D. Johnson. When the king approached him, and sat down beside him.

"Thank you, for saving my life back in Memphis," he said. "Don't mention it, it's the least I could do. After all the things you've done for me," replied Johnson in a faint almost whispered voice. "You carry those guns everywhere don't you colonel?" "Yessir, yes sir I do. Never leave my home without 'em." "Well... you might regret that this time!" Said the king with an angry, evil tone. He jumped at Johnson, and after a struggle on the ground for about two minutes for Johnson's rifle he always carries on his back. The king finally took advantage of the slight opening given to him when Johnson reached for his pistol, and took the rifle.

The king sprang to his feet, and aimed the gun directly at Johnson's head, but as he did, the pistol was pointed at his. Johnson grinned and mumbled, "shoot me," he paused and then continually got louder," shoot me... Shoot Me! SHOOT ME!" *click*... *click* The rifle, was empty. "Don't worry," he said, "this one's empty too." Then said, "now.. you wanna give that gun back?" As the king walked over, and they each had one hand on the weapon, Johnson said, "however, THIS doesn't need any ammunition!" He pulled out his dagger with lightning speed but the king stopped his hand, snapped Johnson's wrist, and took the dagger.

Johnson stood there, knowing he was already dead. But then, he pulled out his revolver with his good hand, and shot the king in his foot. He fell to the ground and Johnson took off. As the king limped away, there stood Johnson waiting. Three shots were fired, and Johnson was dead. The king looked over, and saw none other than former sharpshooting sniper... the T.I.C. John Wright.