Free The Archangel Drones by Joe Nobody

did tell me that the cops beat my son badly.”
    The doctor nodded, looking up at the two stressed parents sitting across from him. “Eventually, the knee can be repaired so that he has full use, but I must warn you – that could take several operations, and perhaps years of recovery.”
    “What? Are you sure? He just signed a scholarship to play college basketball…. What are you saying, Doctor?”
    “I’m not a surgeon, nor am I a specialist in sports medicine, but I’m reasonably sure Jacob isn’t going to be playing basketball for a very, very long time. I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Chase, but that is the truth.”
    Waves of despair rolled over Gabe Chase. He flushed angry, some far recess of his mind screaming for revenge while a disabling current of remorse and helplessness flowed through his mind.
    The guilt was the worst.
    Gabe had talked his wife into purchasing the Honda. It had been his decision to let Jacob take Manny home despite the late hour. He had extended the dinner conversation, and thus the hour, blathering on and on.
    If only he’d told Jacob he needed to talk to Chip and would take Manny home. If only he hadn’t droned on and on with the coach. Things would be different. Jacob would be fine – if only....
    Sandy seemed relieved that her son wasn’t in danger of losing his life, her reaction seemingly mild compared to her husband’s. “Can we see him now?” she asked softly.
    The physician shook his head, “No, I’m afraid he’s not allowed visitors at this time.”
    “What?” replied the confused mother. “I thought he wasn’t in any danger?”
    “Oh, it’s not the hospital that is restricting his visitors; it’s the police. They have some foolish policy that forbids visitation until the suspect has been processed.”
    That was it. That was the final straw for Gabriel William Chase. Rising suddenly from his chair, the irate man hissed, “Thank you, Doctor,” and then pivoted toward the door with the intent of finding the closest law enforcement officer.
    Sandy rushed to follow, determined to cool her husband’s jets. She caught up with him in the hall, “Gabe… Gabe! Wait! Stop right here and talk to me.”
    “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. They beat the crap out of a helpless, good kid. They have ruined the only thing important in his life, and now we can’t even visit our son because of some stupid rule? This is beyond unreasonable, Sandy, and I’m not just going to stand by and let Jacob be abused.”
    “Wait,” she again commanded, “don’t go rushing in all bullheaded and out of control. I know you and that temper, Gabriel Chase, and that tactic is not going to help Jacob right this minute. Let’s get another cup of coffee and talk this through. Be smart. Be calm. Do this the right way.”
    Something in his wife’s voice allowed her logic to penetrate the curtain of emotions obstructing his common sense. He pulled up short, exhaled loudly, and nodded. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”
    After a struggle with the change machine, both had fresh cups of java and were calming down. “Tell you what,” Gabe finally spoke. “Let me work on getting a lawyer on this right away. That will keep me busy and out of trouble. We’ll let someone who knows the system deal with this. How’s that sound?”
    Sandy smiled, relieved that her partner had come around to logical thinking. “Let’s get started. How can I help?”
    Gabe walked to a nearby phone booth and lifted the thick yellow pages for his wife to see. “Got a pencil and paper in that suitcase you call a purse?” he teased.
    “You got it. Start reading off the numbers. I want to kick some police ass.”
    The first surprise for the Chases was the lack of criminal attorneys listed in the yellow pages. There were volumes of mediators, civil litigators, ambulance chasers, divorce attorneys, and other specialists, but the section for those dealing with accused lawbreakers was the least