Live Free or Die: The Height of the Struggle for LIFE!

Dear Suzanne,

This is specifically for you to disabuse you & shake you FREE of any of the lies Daniel has told you at all concerning this episode in the wilderness.

NOT ONLY did he plot & plan this for weeks , as I mentioned before, but when he lured me up to Fools Paradise, it was purportedly to meet this contiguous land owner Bill French. He never arrived.

YES, in hindsight I certainly wish I had heeded that little alarm that went off in my head when we passed the dark house he was supposedly coming to meet us at. But again, I like you, will bend over backwards to give a hurting unit the benfit of a doubt.

It seemed, on the face of it, a perfectly reasonable delay. Bill was coming. Bill was coming he kept telling me...
These are details however that ARE in the court transcript for his trial which you certainly may check for verification anytime.

We started that afternoon by sitting down at our picnic table together. He across from me. He had brought two cans of "ice cold gingerale", you know how he is about serving food. He canmake a hot dog sound like you are getting filet mignon.

Jovial, cheerful, upbeat. We chatted awhile, I don't know, maybe about 45 minutes, but I was getting nervous because Bill was not coming down the path. Still being sociable & cordial though, he carefully quizzed me one last time.

You know how he can come off as detective dudley doright. At any rate, we went through this as I answered the burning questions; are you still planning to go through with this? Areyou SURE you wouldn't rather go with me to California again in this nifty campertruck? Are we really splitting up? Is Jave still in your life, & the little boy?

And through that interview I answered affirmative each time. Yes I want the divorce. I am not angry, I sincerely hope youget on with your own life now. I am glad other women have expressed an interest in you.

He then went into the camper & got a piece of paper & a felt tipped marker.

"Would do do me a favor then?" he said. "What is that," I said. "Would you write down a statement for me for thedivorce."

I said, "O.K., what is it you would like me to write?"

He said, "Write, I, Monica King am an adulteress...."

"Whoa now Daniel you know that's not true. We have been separated. I am NOT an adulteress. I began seeing Jave AFTERI left you," but it was at this point that he became very agitated, & began grabbing at me, pushing me into the camper. He is strong, & since it was still light out, I thought Billwas coming, I resisted, but then went along with him, as I thought perhaps in letting him have this "confession" it would relieve some stress. It was bogus anyway. It was being gotten under duress, but someone had been coaching him to do this.
Some "authority" he apparently contacted. An attorney. Not a voice in his head. A real flesh & blood attorney.

There was a little kitchenette in there, where I shrugged him off & said, "Alright Daniel, you can HAVE your stupidconfession, but I am telling you, this will never hold up in court. It is a forced confession". There was more struggle, he had ripped my sweater, & drawn some blood off my writing hand which spilled onto the paper. I said, "See Daniel, nobody will believe this was written freely. You have drawn blood."

NOW, frankly that was the point of no return & I knew I had a full blown emergency on my hands.

And at this time of year, the exact sequence of when, in this struggle in & out of the camper, that he disappeared around the corner of the camper to reappear seconds later with that gd rifle I could not tell you, without referring back to the tapes I did with Claudia. I hope you will forgive me for thispart. Somewhere between his change in demeanor & the effort to get this "confession" he did do that though.

He had hidden goodies all over the place. In closets, shelves, plastic bags. But all of his goodies were no longer picnic items. They were ALL retrieved & are a part of the EVIDENCEpresented to the jury & judge hearing the case.

They were; a huge roll of duct tape. A set of professional grade hand cuffs. Carefully contained in a velvet purple bag with a golden cord for a drawstring. Family heirlooms. Bags &bags of birdshot shells.

He already had the butcher style knives at the camping area. And he attempted, in that 4 hours long seige, to "capture" me with every single item he brought with him to the "picnic". I am so GLAD I had taken self defense for women in L.A. & again in Littleton, New Hampshire. And had been trained as alifeguard, to keep a drowning victim from you with as much open space as could be maintained as possible around me. Been trained in defusion tactics.
Attempting over & over again to humor him, snap him out of it, get him to sit with me, & read Bible passages together. He would calm down a bit but never let go of the rifle. He certainly DID attempt to tie me up, handcuff me & immobilize me. He was anxious to see if, in this passionate "display ofaffection" I wanted ot pause & "make love". He waved the butcher knife repeatedly in the air at me. No it was no "accidental shooting" Suzanne.

I reasoned with him. I spoke sharply to him. I NEVER,EVER once gave into panic which would rise & have to be pushed down fiercely in order to save both of us. I had to outwit him to get us both out.

I suggested we go down the hill together & call Dr. Novelli right away. I knew he trusted her, the psychologist who we had seen after Marilyn's death. I asked him to consider our children; both Jonathan, & Syd, AND Daniel the third & his little heiress in Maine, another beautiful, beautiful daughter he has by a crazy peer of mine, Melinda Monks. Megan who is in her early teens. Still technically my step-daughter.

I used memory recall. I asked him to remember how HE had felt the day we both were notified that Marilyn had commited suicide at this same landing. How in agony he was. Because somewherein those long, long, hours, which truly is no exaggeration, I was clearly seeing that he had in fact planned this for months probably.
This was Daniel's swan song. HIS Italian soap opera. HIS final exit up to heaven strategy. Kill me first, then himself, leaving our children to anyone who cared.

It WAS outrageous. All the training I had received was about meeting this ultimate challenge. All my finest acting skills,negotiating skills, dealing with a homicidal/suicidal terrorist, this was no dress rehearsal, this was the REALDEAL.

I kept trying to outwit him, in & out of the camper. Let's go Daniel, You drive. I'm right with you. No honey I cooed, I'm not mad at you. I understand. Everything will be alright if we can just BOTH of us, get to see Dr. Novelli together. I will go with you. I can see you are still having a very hard timeemotionally.

To; cut it out Daniel. Cut the crap. Put the gun down. We can not study the Bible with you holding a gun like that across your knees. It does not go with missionary work.

He had highlighted passages about adulterous women & held me at gunpoint forcing me to read them.

He certainly attempted to clap the cuffs on, I tried in a countermove to clap them on him, as then I would have had the upper hand & he could no longer attempt to shoot me. He threwme down on the ground & DID aim the shotgun directly at my pelvis. He used it as a baseball bat & peppered my head & shoulders with blows. He did everything he could think of to gain mastery over my person, & take me by force wherever he wanted to.

I fought the alternate waves of fear & RAGE, I was so mad at him, & I truly did not want to do anything more than get us both out alive. I was afraid just as much of my own rage, as Iknew if I allowed myself to go Viking berserk, I easily could have been the one who killed him, & knowing how many times women who fight back & wind up standing over a dead body, stilllost later in society & court for doing so, I kept that in check too. I thought of Princess Diana. I thought of Lacey Peterson. I thought of Nicole Simpson.
"This ones' for YOU, ladies" I was saying in my mind. "I will win this titanic struggle for YOU." I now knew the terrror they must have faced with those who did them in... my clear goal remained. Get out alive, get him out alive. 4 long hours of this tango Suzanne.

Finally, in the struggle, it was getting dark. The Bible in the struggle had fallen to the ground open. We moved closer to it. I had already yelled the Our Father prayer at the top of my lungs. Nobody was coming. Nobody had known we were there.
Just the way he planned it. The first shot into the air was his warning shot. Meant to scare me. THAT was the first shot.

I thought of the people who went down in the aircraft that did NOT hit the pentagon. I wondered when my strategy needed to shift. Diffusing is a technique. Keep them talking. Meet force with just enough force to counteract, but not become theaggressor yourself.

He was always positioning himself between me & the path to other people. All that time I had those flashbacks, thinking, well Lord, I know that technically I have done my duty here. I have raised my children to adulthood. So what is it YOU wantme to do now?

No answer from heaven, but I happened to glance down at the scriptures laying open. A passage of Matthew jumped out at me from the page.

The one that says, "take therefore, no thought for your life".

That one to me was the "let's roll" call. It WAS do or die at that point. Live Free or Die. The New Hampshire motto on every license plate.

So it was then, as the sun sank low in the back of the trees, I knew with certainty I would have to draw his fire. He was not backing down. His eyes were as dark & cold as any I have ever seen on the face of anyone, ever.
What spark of light, what generosity of spirit I had ever known in him was now TOTALLYgone. Nothing but a dark, menacing killer stood in front of me now.

"Please, please, let me VENT some more, please" he sobbed, begging me.
I, in my no nonsense voice said "the venting is over now Daniel. I have given you at least three hours of ventingtime. It is over. You lied to me. You brought me up here on false pretenses. Bill is not coming."

"I am going THAT way." I squared off facing him. I stood as firmly as I could manage, & pointed with NO uncertainty toward the path leading out directly behind him. It WAS do or die. I WAS prepared to die. In fact I KNEW I WAS going to die.

But not as a coward. Not shot in the back. My pride simply would not allow it. These were the final moments of my earthlyexistence I was CERTAIN now.

I looked up into heaven again. He did too. He cried out, "Oh I LOVE you woman!", in anguish, but then as coldly as any mafia thug, turned back toward me, raised that rifle, aimed itDIRECTLY at my heart, & said, "But your GONNA DIE."

Of COURSE I thought I was going to. I had vision after vision though of all the children in my life, my niece & nephews,another chunky Matthew who was a Wolf clan miracle baby now a young teen, image after image of my kids. I wondered at the meaning of martyrdom, & how that was going to serve us all. All these thoughts cascaded through me Suzanne.

I looked him square in the eyes & prepared.
Something in my heightened state of awareness must have seen the trigger moveso that I turned just slightly, slightly enough, so that when the shot hit me, & it was a BLAST of pellets all at once, it was my right breast that absorbed much of it. But the gun barrel itself was only about 9 inches from my chest. The surgeons who examined the records know this is true. Theballistics guys do too. It was the nearness of the blast which blew the top of the gun barrel open. It is a twelve guageshotgun that he had loaded.

You KNOW how much I know about weapons. That is what I learned later.

But I had not expected to live. I really did not. I thought it would be one clean bullet. He couldn't miss!

But yes, you refer to his "warning shot." He had done that earlier in the struggle to get me to FEAR him. That was the whole larger issue. He could NEVER got me to fear him! It isimportant when a murderer, a rapist is attempting to get his way that they establish dominance with fear & psychologicalcontrol first.

He never got that.

SO, the next thing was, "Hey I'm still alive" I am saying in my mind. "I can't believe this! I am still here!" THAT stunned me. Ready to play harps in heaven I was still earthbound. Theactual PAIN of all those lead pellets splaying my chest open was, in that immediate hindsight..not THAT bad, considering I was still here. It felt like a major knee burn like you get when you get dragged down asphalt falling off a bike. Thousands of stingy feelings.

I looked down at my chest. My sweater blown open by the blast. My right breast simply hanging open, so I could see all those anatomical details I wrote about.

But, what was this also? He is not all over me right now. I can breathe, still. That does not hurt. I did not EVER once get off the heels of my feet, I simply crouched lower, always still looking to scan a way to escape.

I'm weighing the odds now. If I quietly, with this change in situation simply, S-L-O-W-L-Y get up again, walk quietly now silently now toward the way out, maybe, just maybe he is toodistracted to get down on top of me again.

I could not see what he was doing but he was over to the left of my field of vision. Rustling with those infernal bags, RELOADING the shotgun I realized. So, I gradually gained momentum, gaining speed, & distance away from him until he finally had done what he was doing, reloaded, & came running after me AGAIN, Suzanne.

This time though I was further up the path to safety, made it to a more visible juncture in the pathway, where he came at me again. Because he was panicked now, & truly was only interested in finishing me off, he was almost wild with fear.
I knew what he was thinking. My heart did not bleed out though. My lungs had not been hit. MIRACULOUSLY.

But he caught up with me again. Had the rifle & instead of shooting me this time, bludgeoned me with it over & over again. THIS time I faked it. So sorry Walt, but I did.

I had a flash of a vision of one of those mother terns who lays her nest on the ground & fakes a broken wing to distract predators from her nest. This time, as he was beating me, yah,I fell down. I was holding my breast, the one I had wondered about putting the glove on for.

THIS time I said in my best Helen Hayes acting style, "Daniel, I am feeling so faint, so faint, I can feel the life blood draining out of me, Daniel, HONEY, I KNOW you love me, soPLEASE sweety, I am begging you dear, please go back & get the camper so we both can get to the hospital."

He growled. He yanked at me. But I lay on the ground, dead weight against his efforts. I faked fainting. I did not move. I acted dead.

After that, he finally left me alone. Beat it down the path again to get the camper. This time, I waited. Held my breath, listening, until I knew I had enough distance between us to make the final push, to get to the nearest neighbor. This time, I did make it too. I beat it out of there, got as far asa small maple tree for cover, as the leaves were falling & there was less cover, to hug next to, moving carefully around it, as he swung back into view now driving it wild-eyed out of the woods toward the first rural road, into the populated but rural little neighborhood he emerged into. Once he had goneby, I then raced, jumping through brambles & thorns to get to the nearest neighbor's house. Fortunately Wayne was outside,hammering on a rooftop of a shed he had been building.

I yelled at him.

"Wayne" I said, "I have been shot. Daniel shot me, & he is in his camper looking for me right now."

He came off of his ladder. He came running toward me. "What,what ?" he said.

He took me in, wild looking, sweater blown open, blood, boob hanging out.

"Oh my God "he said," Monica! " He came running up to me & led me gently into his home, to his dining room floor.

He said, "Monica, I don't know what to do! You're the nurse, what do I do?"

I said, "Tell your kids to get inside & call 911." He promptly ordered his two teenaged girls to come inside, lock all the doors & windows & dial 911. They did.

He told them. "Do NOT open that door until a police car or an ambulance crew shows up!" Then what?

"What do I do now?"he said. "Get me a bag of frozen veggies from the freezer, Wayne, & apply them. It will help to have something cold on the wound." He came back fast as a Jack rabbit, & a little overzealously applied it to my chest.
"That's good, that's good" I said. "How about I hold them now, O.K?"

He let go, & within minutes the rescue team had arrived & was in the door. With police back-up.

I felt like Dorothy in the wizard of Oz lying there with all my neighbors, my first responder friends encircling me now, doing the right things. Taking my blood pressure, starting an IV. I heard one say bp? The one taking it said 130/94.

I laughed with relief. "That's pretty good considering" I said.

And then I said to them, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, over over again..."for rescuing me".

By that time the Fentanyl they had given me IV push was working its magic. I felt calmer, more relaxed & relieved. I was going to make it to the hospital now.

At that moment they all just stopped for a beat. One woman looked into my eyes & said, "Monica WE didn't save you! YOU saved you. If you had not made it out of those woods, NOBODY WOULD HAVE FOUND YOU. You are the BRAVEST woman we have evermet."

So, Suzanne, that is the truth. The REAL rest of the story.
Not the fig newton of Daniel's twistedimagination. Go figure.

I love you, Monica

NOW do you understand that, while I can forgive him it is hard to forget? That I KNOW for a fact that he can never get out of his own miserable state UNTIL HE MAKES A FULL CONFESSION, & owns up to WHAT he DID? It is like Silence of the Lambs. You have to understand the delusionary nature of the CRIMINAL mind in order to understand the path to healing FOR DANIEL.

And for me too. The TRUTH sets us all free